Attention to the Small Things
by Aquila8
Summary: A/U, Tyr and Beka, Spoilers, Beka assists Tyr to capture an assassin, The mistakes are mine, that's all.
1. Small Things

"It is time, my Lord." The infantry soldier whispered into the ear of his supreme commander then stepped back to stand at attention.  
  
Tyr lifted his head to gaze about the room. His eyes stopped to scrutinize the faces of the seated men. All but one returned his stare confidently. Hodur shifted his gaze to an invisible point to the left of the head of his overlord.  
  
As Tyr rose from his chair, his attending officers rose to stand at attention. "Relax, gentlemen. Renard will provide refreshment during my absence. Use this opportunity to discuss the plan. I expect to be presented with the pros and cons when I return."  
  
The attending officers nodded in homage as he left the room, one or two calling to Renard to bring them their beverage of choice. Tyr listened as the sound of comrades in arms discussing strategy faded. He refused to look back, trusting that his enemy would not make a move while he was near enough to call for help.  
  
Two guards standing either side of a wooden double door came to attention at his approach.  
  
"What are your orders?" He addressed his question to the guard standing to the left side of the hall.  
  
"Once you have set the lock on the inside of the chamber, no one is to be permitted access until you open the door of your own volition. On pain of death." The guard on the right nodded in agreement.  
  
"What if someone requests entry claiming he is here at the request of my wife?"  
  
The guards grinned. The one on the right replied, "My Lord, your wife is human. She is unfamiliar with our customs. We would not embarrass you or she by granting the ignorant petitioner admission."  
  
Satisfied by their responses, Tyr nodded. The guard on the right pushed open the door to the sleeping chamber and Tyr stepped through. Once inside, he turned and bolted the doors loudly to ensure that the guard detail heard the sound.  
  
In the voice of a field sergeant he shouted, "The Kodiak Pride rejoices that we are to make a child this night, my Beloved."  
  
"Jeez, Tyr, cut the crap!" A tousled head of blonde hair emerged from between the drapes that surrounded the oversized bed. "I already feel stupid enough as it is."  
  
The exasperated women clutched the drapery under her chin, making a frame of material for her face. When Tyr reached up to draw back the curtains, she spit and snarled.  
  
"Don't you dare. I know you've been waiting a lifetime to see me naked, but it isn't going to be tonight. Go sit over there." She pointed to a large chair beside a hearth that was glowing with embers. "And put another log on the fire while you're at it. I'm cold."  
  
He grinned at her discomfort, which exasperated her even further. "Wrap the bedding around you. My lap is big enough for you and the comforter. Beka, you can warm in front of the fire, while I entertain you with erotic tales of mating rituals and reproduction."  
  
Tyr watched her face closely for signs of interest. For a brief moment he caught a flash of something other than aggravation. His groin twitched in response. Put thoughts of consummation out of your mind tonight, Anasazi, he chided himself. We have a traitor to capture.  
  
Beka disappeared behind the curtain. Tyr heard muffled curses and much rustling of sheets. His next glimpse of her was a tightly wrapped butt jutting out from between the curtains. Tyr watched as she struggled to detach herself from the excess bedding. Her effort entangled her in the curtains. Limbs were everywhere, up, down, out and then hidden from view. It was as if he were watching her tossed about in a blending machine. He was greatly amused, until she shrieked, "Tyr."  
  
He jumped from the chair, drew back the curtains with great force, to fall on top of her. "Beka, stop struggling and keep your voice down. The palace is supposed to be hearing sounds of pleasure not torture. You are putting our plan in jeopardy."  
  
The weight of his 300 kilo, perfectly muscled, male body was too much for Beka, confined as she was by linen. "Get off me, you big lug." She tried to push him away, but could find no leverage.  
  
Tyr guessed that the lump pointing toward the head of the bed was her head. Gently, he pulled the sheeting down to uncover her face. Her cheeks were pink with anger. Her eyes sparkled with determination. Her hair was tousled as if they had been making love all day. He could not resist the temptation to unveil even more. Another tug exposed her shoulders. He repositioned himself so that the bundle of flesh and sheeting was snuggled up against him. He tasted the skin stretched tight across her collarbone. She froze. He pulled the sheet again. He was careful to keep her legs and arms bound. Now he had exposed the top half of the round mounds of her gender. Tyr drew a finger over the hills and valleys, following the line of the sheeting. She shivered in response. He retraced the red-hot trail left by his finger with the cooling tip of his tongue. He froze. She whimpered.  
  
After a lifetime of silence, Beka whispered "You were going to tell me an erotic tale."  
  
"But first you must dress. When he attacks, you must be clothed."  
  
"And armed." She frowned.  
  
"Beka, naked you are more lethal than a Gauss rifle, but yes, armed." He fell back on the bed releasing her from his embrace.  
  
"Where did you stash the gear? And why didn't you tell me that you were going to make sure that I had some? Tyr, did you just take advantage of the situation?" She had searched the room before he entered, but found nothing.  
  
"I saw an opportunity, I took it. Was it not pleasurable?" He pointed to a gift wrapped box that sat on the seat of the chair drawn up before the vanity. "I used the disguise of an impregnation gift."  
  
"Impregnation gift?" Beka unwound the sheeting that ensnared her.  
  
"A Nietzschean male might forget a birthday or an anniversary, but the male who forgets to bring a present to an impregnation, he, well he, will never father children ever again!"  
  
He sighed. Freya had never received such a gift from him. One more regret to shoulder stoically. He raised his head, just as Beka removed the last bit of cloth from her body. She was breathtaking. Her pale skin glowed against the backdrop of rose pink linen. Her hair even more tousled feathered about her face. She appeared to be unaware of his hungry scrutiny, easy in her nakedness; she rolled out of the bed to land gracefully on her feet. Tyr watched her progress across the room, his manhood twitching with each sway of her hips.  
  
"Disappointed, Kodiak?"  
  
He raised his head at her question. She had struck a pose, one hand on the back of the chair where the package lay, the other on her hip. Her breasts were puckered tightly. Her weight was split between the chair and one leg. She crossed her other leg over the weight bearing one. She was audacious and bold and he could no longer keep the depth of his desire from his eyes.  
  
"Tyr, we agreed." She was exacting punishment for his earlier deception.  
  
He nodded. Yes, they had agreed, but that was in the planning stages, when all was merely theory and she was taking inhibitors. Tonight, she was naked and aroused and ovulating. She was vulnerable and he was tempted.  
  
As she unwrapped the parcel and removed the clothing, he spoke the words that he had been mentally rehearsing for days.  
  
"Beka, I can never adequately thank you for agreeing to play the part of my wife." He paused to watch as she tugged her trousers over her hips. "To take yourself off the inhibitor and permit the matriarch to test your DNA and fertility, to subject yourself to ritual bathing. There is no woman in the world who would have done as much for me." His speech ended as the last piece of clothing fell into place.  
  
"And don't forget the sharing of your quarters for the past month, so that your Pride would believe you had taken a wife at last."  
  
She had given him a month of her life willingly, considering it a small payment toward the debt she owed him. She had lost count of the number of times he had saved her life and sanity when they crewed together on the Andromeda Ascendant. She had been wrong about the size of the payment. This month was going to cost much more than she had anticipated. Had she known then what she knew now, Beka would have made the same choice of that she was certain.  
  
"I will never forget the past month, Beka," was his cryptic reply.  
  
He rose from the bed to return to the chair by the fire. He removed his jacket and withdrew one of his guns from its holster, then settled himself in the chair. Beka arrived at his side at that moment.  
  
"Is your offer of a lap still open?" She dazzled him with her smile.  
  
His response was to make a bow from the waist, followed by opening his arms wide. She backed onto his lap, throwing her legs over one arm of the chair, leaning her spine against the other. Tyr stretched his arm across her back to give her greater support.  
  
"Let's go over this plan one more time."  
  
She kept her voice low. She knew that he could have heard her from across the room, but her hearing was limited. The proximity meant that they could communicate without the guards or others loitering outside the room overhearing.  
  
"Kodiak men passed down a tale from father to son about the conception of the first Kodiak child. There was a time, when the tale was used to prepare young males for their first attempt at impregnation. The ritual fell out of fashion, but the story continued to be passed down."  
  
He shifted a little in the chair. The heat she was radiating was causing him discomfort.  
  
"So as the first Alpha of the newly restored Kodiak pride, you have chosen to re-enact the ritual. Or so your people think. But really what you are doing is using the ritual to identify and trap the traitor." Beka wriggled, adding to the pressure he was feeling.  
  
"Confirm the identity of the traitor, because I believe the traitor is Hodur." Tyr rested his head on Beka's shoulder.  
  
"Exactly how would the re-enactment do that, since no one but you and the female with the womb you plan to invade are supposed to be in this room?"  
  
Beka stroked his cheek. Freely touching Tyr, without fear of censure, was a bonus of the masquerade.  
  
"Nietzschean males are most vulnerable during the act of impregnation. We become so focused on our duty that we might as well be blind, deaf and mute." He grinned, but she did not see it as his face was turned from her.  
  
"So you are counting on the traitor to take advantage of your distraction." She needed specifics. "How does this ritual unfold exactly?"  
  
Before answering, Tyr lowered the lights, started the music player - Tchaikovsky suited the mood better than Wagner. His enemy, he anticipated, would be watching for signs of activity from within the room. He had swept the room for listening devices earlier. Any reconnaissance by the enemy would have to be done without high tech equipment.  
  
Beka's mood changed with the lighting. She snuggled against his chest, resting her cheek on some exposed skin. The soft dusting of curls that covered his chest provided comfort as did the rhythmic thud of his heart. He rested his chin on top of her head and wrapped his arms about her.  
  
The first female ancestor chose her first mate when they were both very young, barely mature enough to conceive. They were nervous as all first lovers are. Would I please her, he wondered. Would I arouse him, she worried. They first ancestors understood the process of conception but had little experience, beyond a stolen kiss or two.  
  
Beka revelled in the rumbled story, delivered in her ear by a moist, warm zephyr. Wherever their bodies touched a comforting heat began to build. She raised her head, causing him to move his mouth away from her ear. Their gazes locked.  
  
"We know each other more intimately than that."  
  
"Yes, Beka, we do. And we are nervous when we contemplate total intimacy. Imagine then, how afraid the first ancestors felt when, at last, they were permitted to mate?"  
  
"That kind of innocence usually ends in a disastrous first encounter."  
  
She and Tyr had lost their innocence decades before they met. Should they act on their latent desires, she did not anticipate disaster.  
  
The female, so say the fathers, began to cry with apprehension. The male, so say the mothers, strutted and growled in frustration. The couple was at an impasse. She red eyed and weepy. He restless and wanting. "Wife," he said, "You need not fear me. Come let me show you that I am but flesh and blood." Slowly he removed his clothing, one piece at a time. First he revealed his chest, which she had seen many times in the sparring matches. Then he removed his boots. She had seen his feet unshod in the foot races. He unbuckled his holster and laid aside his knives. He had been unarmed the night she had chosen him. As he undressed, he became less threatening to the female. Soon she joined the game, until there was nothing left to remove but his trousers.  
  
"You might say that she was unwrapping the first impregnation gift." Beka interjected.  
  
Tyr smiled and continued.  
  
The fathers say that the male invited her to finish the disrobing. The mothers say that she stayed his hand, as he was about to undo the buttons, replacing his hands with her own. No matter, eventually all was revealed. He stood with the confirmation of his arousal displayed. She drank in the sight. When her blush of embarrassment turned to the heat of desire, he reached for the ribbon that held her robe in place. With one tug, the bow parted and the silk fell from her shoulders. Her robe puddled at her feet.  
  
"Could he be as sure of her desire as she was of his?"  
  
The fathers say that she quivered with want. The mothers say that she shivered with cold. The new husband, uncertain, reached for his wife. He drew her into his arms. The heat of his body replaced the warmth of cloth.  
  
'Shush, mother of my immortality.' The husband comforted the wife with respect and tenderness. She, taking pleasure in the contact of skin to skin, began to explore. First she trailed her hands along his spine. Then she traced the contours of his chest. When she lifted her leg to wrap her calf around his thigh, he lifted her. She clung to him fearlessly as he carried her to their bed.  
  
The young husband knelt, lowering his wife so that she sat upon the edge of the bed. His body resting between her thighs, his knees on the floor. His hands were on her hips. The fathers say that he tasted of her breasts and mouth. The mothers say that he used his hands to start a fire deep within her.  
  
"Halt, what business have you here tonight?"  
  
Tyr and Beka sprang to attention, force lances at the ready, when they heard the guard's challenge. The response was muffled, by the sounds of a scuffle. Something heavy thudded against the door. Then they heard a ripping sound. When all was silent, Beka took a position that made her invisible when Tyr opened the door.  
  
Tyr tore his shirt out of the waistband of his trousers. He slipped off his boots. He undid the buttons of his shirt. When all was ready, he unlocked the door.  
  
"Who would be so bold as to interrupt the Alpha when he is creating children?" He bellowed the question through the closed door, drawing it open immediately afterward.  
  
The two guards stood over the body of Hodur weapons at the ready. "We did not mean to disturb you my Lord. He would not heed our warning." The one who responded came to attention, while the other kept his weapon trained on the prisoner.  
  
"Well done. Did he claim that he came on the invitation of my wife?" Tyr looked from guard to guard.  
  
"Yes, my Lord. He showed us a note." The guard that answered thrust a piece of paper into Tyr's hand.  
  
"Keep an eye on the interloper. I will call for a clean up crew. When will you be relieved?" Tyr waited for an answer.  
  
"Our watch is over in two hours, my Lord." The guard looked worried.  
  
"When I call for clean up, I'll ask for a detail to relieve you. Your diligence will be rewarded."  
  
Before Tyr closed the door, he saw a smile appear on the face of the guards. Attention to small things bred loyalty was a lesson he had learned from Beka. 


	2. A Number of Things

"What happened?" Beka stepped out from behind the door, an anxious look on her face.  
  
Tyr put his index finger to his lips in the universal sign of silence. Beka pouted, but waited until he had closed and bolted the doors, before her facial muscles foretold that she was again going to question him. He silenced her with a soul-searing kiss, which in seconds turned into an invasion.  
  
Beka countered his attack with one of her own. With strength she did not know she had she pulled him to her. Their bodies crushed together, buckles and zippers crunching and clashing. Leather creaked. A growl rose from deep within the Kodiak to emerge round and full when at last they broke their embrace.  
  
"My Lord.My Lord." The guards were pounding on the doors. "My Lord.are you all right My Lord."  
  
"No damn it, I am not." He roared. "I have a baby to make and people keep interrupting me."  
  
Beka put her hand over her mouth and doubled over. Her shoulders shook, tears began to spill from her eyes. She tried desperately to contain the laughter. Sputters and snorts escaped.  
  
Tyr swept the ball of giggling woman into his arms and strode across the room to deposit her on the bed. She rolled over and buried her face into the mattress and laughed and laughed and laughed. Slapping the mattress with the palms of her hands. Tyr stood over her, considering his options. Eventually she calmed, rolled over and sat up.  
  
"You have a plan. It is written all over your face. What is it?"  
  
Watching him think had become one of the perks of sharing his quarters. He would turn inward, focused on the energy of his firing synapses. He was no longer self-aware. His flesh relaxed. The stiff spine that defined his strut loosened. She waited, watching for the moment when his decision was made. His hands gave him away. The long, graceful fingers equally capable of bringing death or joy would move. First to his face to stroke his beard, then to his waist to sit on his hips for a moment, before they began to take inventory of his personal weapons. His habit, which she had detected when only she was in his presence, was a gambler's tell - vulnerability. She knew he suppressed it when he was in public, ever controlled, ever the stoic. He honoured her with his trust, each time he permitted her to witness the ritual.  
  
"We have options, which are not yet a plan." Tyr gave her the paper. "But first I must communicate with Nestor."  
  
Beka examined the note, while he pushed the intercom button.  
  
"Nestor here." A disembodied voice floated in the room.  
  
"Nestor, dismiss the men. Ask them to return at 06:00 tomorrow."  
  
"Is there a problem, my Lord?"  
  
Tyr paused to consider his response, "I need a clean up crew sent to my quarters and a relief guard detail. Hodur attempted to interrupt the ritual. I want him placed under house arrest."  
  
"No child yet my Lord?"  
  
His second in command had a Nietzschean view of procreation. That Tyr had not completed the impregnation was a greater disappointment than the odd behaviour of a member of his command staff.  
  
"No child.yet." Tyr cut the connection.  
  
"What is it about making babies that makes Nietzschean males so pompous?"  
  
The tone of voice Beka used was not dripping with her usual sarcasm. She appeared to genuinely want to know. Tyr had acted as her cultural mentor for many years on board the Andromeda; it was easy to slip into the role once more.  
  
"Immortality is a powerful motivation." He sat on the edge of the bed. "Other people believe in a life after death. We do too. Our life after death is our children. And then, of course, there are the orgasms!"  
  
"Orgasms?" Beka was too curious to punch him in the arm in response to his outrageously smug grin.  
  
The first father had heard tales of the pleasure that accompanied a successful impregnation. The first mother had been told that she was responsible for ensuring her own pleasure, for men could be selfish in the act. No one had told either of them how to ensure the pleasure. So the couple had, once again, to rely on their own inventiveness to achieve the mysterious promised pleasure.  
  
Tyr removed his shirt. Beka snuggled in the crook of his arm, the right side of her face resting over his heart. She lifted her legs so that they stretched across his lap, her heels resting on the mattress. Tyr placed his right hand on her thigh. His left rested on her waist.  
  
"How did they achieve the mysterious, promised pleasure?" Beka asked, her breath creating a warm trail across his chest.  
  
"The how must wait until later, we have to consider our options."  
  
He tilted her head up with his right index finger. His brown eyes gazed into her blue eyes intently.  
  
"But I will tell you that together they found their pleasure six times and never once did he leave her body to achieve the half dozen little deaths."  
  
He captured her mouth with his. She melted against him, liquid heat igniting in her inner core. Her abdominal muscles tightened. Her knees grew weak. She returned his kiss tenfold, then pulled away.  
  
"Six times? That's the minimum standard for all Nietzschean males when creating a baby?"  
  
Tyr smiled, "The minimum."  
  
"And this only happens when making babies? Other times, when pleasure is the only purpose of the act? What happens?"  
  
"I cannot speak for all Nietzschean males. Three or four times at best, but that is rare. Say three."  
  
"Guaranteed?"  
  
"Guaranteed." 


	3. Other Things

Without telling the other, Tyr and Beka took a moment to contemplate the possibility of sharing the experience three times.  
  
Beka was not ready to consider breaking the First Father's record. That was too much like taking Tyr's worthiness as a Husband and Father seriously She was tempted to let him play the role of lover, however. What did the unmarried Kodiak do when his tightly wrapped sensuality broke free?  
  
Tyr had decided to never again become a Husband or Father, although he had told no one of his intent. He determined that his considerable interest in women would be channeled into the care and raising of the one son that his drive to procreate had provided. Beka's vibrant sexuality - she could not suppress it anymore than she could voluntarily stop her heart from beating - had tested his resolve to remain celibate. Did a physical relationship with a female have to result in marriage and fatherhood? Heresy - very tempting heresy in the lithe form of Captain Valentine.  
  
The stamping of feet and barking of orders in the hall brought the couple back to reality. They had to eradicate the threat to Tyr's legacy.  
  
"You said that you had some options?" Tyr admired Beka's ability to refocus quickly.  
  
"Option One: We admit this mission failed. You return to your life. And I find another way to identify the traitor. Hodur was a tool, just as you predicted."  
  
Beka slipped off his lap to put some distance between them. They needed cool heads. Whenever they shared their social space, they let their guard down. Until Tyr knew whom of his Pride he could trust, they would have to set aside the electricity between them that kept their blood boiling.  
  
"Tyr, the note is genuine. That note was stolen from my desk yesterday, just as I told you it had been." She suppressed the instinct to touch him. "We could use it to flush out the bad guy."  
  
"That option would require disclosing that my leadership is threatened. You would be implicated. When we find the guilty one, you would be vindicated, but your reputation would be sullied. My people would never trust you."  
  
"What does that matter?" She was touched by his concern for her reputation, but was puzzled by his reluctance.  
  
"Beka, you are my closest friend. Tamerlane loves you. I value your counsel." He did not hesitate to stretch his hand out to her in a gesture of friendship. "I want you to be welcomed here with respect and affection by my family and Pride."  
  
She had put her hand in his. He reeled her in, spreading his legs so that she stood between his thighs. He rested his head on her abdomen. The silence weighed down on them.  
  
"Can you afford to admit that you couldn't perform?" Beka stepped back so that he would raise his head to look at her.  
  
"My virility won't be questioned. I have Tamerlane as proof of it." He sighed. "There will be talk of my inability to hold a wife. We cannot disclose that our marriage was a ruse, until we have captured the traitor."  
  
Beka kneeled so that she was level with his eyes. She rested her elbows on his knees. "So if we choose option one, I will have to divorce you? What constitutes grounds for divorce?"  
  
"Cruelty, perversion, bankruptcy, sexual incompatibility, inability to conceive." He cupped her right cheek in his hand. "Inability to conceive won't stand up. No one will believe the sexual incompatibility. The heat we generate could warm this palace for a month."  
  
Beka put her hand over the hand that cupped her cheek. "Your power base is too fragile to use bankruptcy as an excuse." She smiled, "You can't afford it!"  
  
He grinned too. "Bad pun, but you are right. That leaves perversion and cruelty."  
  
'Tyr, I will not sully your reputation any more than you will mine. Your people do not deserve an Alpha known for his cruelty and perversion." She grabbed a handle of hair and pulled him to her face. With her lips just brushing his, she whispered, "No divorce." Her tongue caressed his lips with feather light licks.  
  
Slowly she applied pressure. He relented, opening his mouth, granting her access. Soon the room was filled with the sound of wet kisses and heavy breathing. He reached for her, crushing her against his chest. She grabbed handfuls of his hair, holding on as if he were a life raft in a stormy sea. When they finally pulled apart they gulped lung-fulls of air, their chests heaving with the effort.  
  
When her breathing was under control, although the thudding of her heart continued, she recommenced the analysis.  
  
"Option One is not an option. You cannot alert the traitor to your knowledge of him. He will cover his tracks and it may be months before you can uncover some new clues to his identity." She was certain. "Option Two must be rejected, because it too will reveal your knowledge of the traitor."  
  
"There is a third option, but the consequences are far reaching." Tyr let go of her.  
  
"Continue the charade. Give the people who are in opposition to you a false sense of security." Beka put distance between them. "Up side, Tamerlane gets a sibling. Down side, we are committed in some form or fashion to each other for the rest of our lives."  
  
"We have never spoken of your interest in motherhood." Tyr had assumed the role held no interest for her.  
  
"I am not opposed to motherhood. I doubt that I am capable of it." She backed away to avoid the contempt she expected to see in his eyes. "Trance told me when she removed the inhibitor that if I wanted to have children, I should not delay much longer. She said that if I put another inhibitor in at the end of this mission, I may never have children."  
  
"I have a child so special that I feel no need to create more." Tyr confessed. "I promised myself that I would never marry or father other children to ensure that he survived to take his rightful place amongst his people."  
  
"Tamerlane is a special kid, all right, but why deny him siblings."  
  
Tyr put his head in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees. Beka had seldom seen him in such a posture of dejection. He was hiding something from her. The revelation that he was planning to forgo marriage and additional children shocked her into silence.  
  
"The Genites were right. Tamerlane is the genetic reincarnation of Drago Museveni. His destiny is inescapable. He will reunite the Neitzschean peoples."  
  
Beka sat beside him on the bed, one arm across his shoulders, her mouth pressed against his ear to whisper, "Who knows this?"  
  
"Dylan, you, and the matriarch." Tyr pushed his head against her mouth. "Tamerlane doesn't even know."  
  
"Are you sure, she isn't behind the attack on your leadership?" Beka continued to whisper in his ear.  
  
"The only thing of which I am certain is that she would never harm my son." Tyr sighed.  
  
"So much makes sense that didn't before." Beka walked to the fireplace to place another log on the glowing embers. It was going to be a long sleepless night. 


	4. Their Thing

When the log came into contact with the embers a shower of sparks erupted. Small twinkling scraps scattered across the hearth. Beka stamped on those that fell on the rug and floor. She left to die a natural death the ones that fell on the stone hearth.  
  
Tyr breathed in the aroma of the wood fire. The snap and hiss of the log as it caught fire was elemental. Deep inside where his essence resided he felt a profound need to set aside the machinations of power. He ached to recharge his spirit in the well of life that Beka carried inside.  
  
"Do you think the traitor will strike again tonight?"  
  
She did not turn to look at him, but threw the question over her shoulder as if it were some salt that she had spilled. She held her breath; her face scrunched in concentration, waiting for the rumble of words that would ease the fear for the future that consumed her.  
  
"His plan has been thwarted. I expect he has aborted Plan A and is putting Plan B into action." The thud of a boot hitting the floor punctuated his answer to her question. "Tomorrow, we will be at risk. Tonight, we have been given a reprieve." His other boot hit the floor.  
  
"We earned that reprieve." She turned from the fire, the fear beaten into submission like the embers. "What shall we do with it, Tyr?"  
  
Her head was cocked to one side and her hands were on her hips. She stood with her legs apart. Her chin held high. She was the very picture of belligerence. What was he willing to sacrifice to witness the pleasure of submission on her face?  
  
When she let go of her inner battle to live in the moment, she noticed for the first time the signs of aging. There was gray in the locs that dangled from his temples. Laugh lines radiated from the corners of his eyes. His physique still inspired lust, even though his waist was thicker than when they first met. He appeared to favour his right shoulder, using his left hand to finish the disrobing.  
  
"I need to rest," he said, drawing back the bed linen, then sliding in to lie naked under the covers. "Care to join me?"  
  
"Give me a minute."  
  
With his head resting on a pillow, he watched her step into the en suite, closing the door gently behind her. While waiting for her he took inventory of his aches and pains. His nanobots seemed to take longer to set his body right than they used to take.  
  
Beka ran a hot shower, steaming up the mirror and the glass that surrounded the shower stall. She stripped to stand under the moist heat until she could no longer tell the difference between her skin and the water. Tension seeped from the muscles of her neck. Tentatively she tried rotating her head. Noting an absence of pain, she rolled her head one-way, then the other. An invigorating rub of the towel over her body brought the blood to the surface, giving her a rosy glow. She hung the towel to dry, snapped off the light and climbed into bed with Tyr.  
  
"After all these years, how is it that we find ourselves naked in the same bed with no self-consciousness?" He hoped she had an answer, as debate was currently beyond contemplation.  
  
"Tyr, we have shared our vulnerabilities. Isn't that more intimate than naked skin? There is nowhere to hide anymore." She rested her head on his chest, her arms wrapped around his ribs. She settled her pelvis against his hip and her right leg blanketed his thighs. Then they slept.  
  
The clock on the bedside table glowed 02:00. She had slept two hours so soundly that she was still draped across his body when she awoke. She listened to the rhythm of his heart. He was awake, but at rest. Her hand stroking his cheek brought him out of his reverie. "Did you sleep well?" He captured her hand to kiss the palm.  
  
"Yes, better than I have in months." She bit lightly his nipple nearest her mouth. "And you?"  
  
"Yes, I am refreshed and ready to fight for my son's birthright." He put his hand on one of her lower cheeks and began to knead the muscle. If only their partnership were not a ruse.  
  
"Tell me more of the story, please, Tyr." His fingers were magic, she was turning to liquid. "When you left off, the couple was attempting to achieve the mysterious promised pleasure."  
  
The First Father began with the pleasure he had already discovered a kiss. The First Mother returned it chastely.  
  
"Like this." Beka placed her lips on his.  
  
"Like that. But the First Father wanted more, so he tweaked her nipple, which caused her to gasp in pleasure and surprise. He took advantage of the opening and invaded her mouth. Like this."  
  
Still kneading her lower cheek, his tongue invaded her mouth, sending a raging fire down her spine to the ends of her limbs.  
  
The fathers say that to gain her trust he had to repeat his actions many times. The mothers say that his wife became bold, providing her own source of pleasure.  
  
Beka pressed her fingers against the root of his manhood, between the sacs that held his genetic material. He moaned and his body began to resemble a force lance, smooth and rigid.  
  
"Perhaps the mothers were right?" he moaned, writhing with pleasure.  
  
Beka rolled onto her back. Tyr followed her, pressing his pelvis against hers, so that his legs spread hers apart.  
  
"You do not want a wife. I do not want a husband. Is that correct?" Beka pushed her pelvis up and spread her legs wider.  
  
"That is what we said." Could they find a compromise? Should they? "You have not answered my question. Do you want to be a mother?" He pushed against her well of life.  
  
She raised herself by bending her arms and leaning on her elbows. Her face was millimeters from his. Their eyes locked, "Yes, cry my hormones. No, cries my common sense."  
  
He stole a kiss then requested that she explain more fully. "I understand the influence of your hormones. Mine are demanding release, right now. But I do not understand your reluctance."  
  
"A child is a lifetime commitment. My mother abandoned her commitment to me. My father, may the Empress bless him, tried to make up for it, but he failed as a single parent. What models have shaped my ability to parent? I certainly don't want my child to be conceived in a lab somewhere with an anonymous donor for a father. And - this is a stretch - what if I turned out to be a good mother? To want my first child to have siblings. How could I achieve that without further complications?"  
  
Tyr sucked a breast into his mouth. He tongued and nipped her soft mound until she moaned in frustration. "Tyr, there is such an ache, a void that needs filling. What are we going to do?"  
  
"If I father your child, tonight, the baby would be guaranteed a sibling. Tamerlane needs a brother or sister. If I father your child tonight, conception would be natural. Your child's father would not be anonymous if I were to provide the genetic material. I would be an involved father, ready to shoulder my share of the duties and pleasures of parenting." He ministered to her other breast, causing her to writhe and moan some more. "And I promise that I would father as many children as you desire. You would only need to ask."  
  
"No marriage required?" She grabbed a handful of hair and pulled him down so that she could devour his tongue. When she released him, he was panting heavily, his control seconds from shattering.  
  
"No marriage required by either of us. Although, should you wish to take a husband, or I a wife, we give each other first right of refusal." He slipped a hand between their lower bodies, seeking her pleasure button.  
  
"Like an option to purchase?" She was amused at his suggestion, until his hand found the bundle of nerves it had been seeking. "Oh my. Oh my. Oh my. Oh yessss." 


	5. Emotional Things

Two hours had passed. The aftershock of the last of the small deaths Tyr had induced was diminishing. She felt his departure. He had remained inside her throughout their passionate union, just as he had promised.  
  
Tyr pulled a pillow down the bed. He shifted his weight from her body to his elbow. In a voice warm with emotion, he told her to "Lift your pelvis, Beka."  
  
He filled the space that she created with the pillow. "Make yourself comfortable." As she settled her posterior on the pillow, he rolled off to lie on his side beside her. He took the covers with him. His eyes travelled from her head to her toes, taking in every inch of exposed skin. The palm of his hand he retraced the path his eyes had followed. His touch, gentle and possessive, culminated in a trail of kisses from her navel to her lower lips.  
  
When at last he raised his head, he said, "You have done me a great honour, Beka. I swear I will be there for you and our child all the days of my life."  
  
Tyr buried his head between her breasts. His hair spread out like a blanket, covering her to the waist. She felt a damp warmth puddle on her breastbone, where his tears collected.  
  
"How can you be so certain that I am pregnant?" She giggled. "I do not question your prowess, Kodiak. After all I was there. And I don't need to be reminded that you broke the First Father's record."  
  
He raised his head again. "I did didn't I? He grinned smugly. "There is a three percent chance that you are not pregnant, based on Nietzschean conception statistics."  
  
Beka smiled, "I like those odds." She wove her fingers through his hair. "You have honoured me, Alpha Kodiak, fathering my - our - child."  
  
"You did not question the pillow?" Tyr recalled. "Did Trance send you instructions too?"  
  
"The removal of the inhibitor came with a lecture, complete with visual aids. She gave me instructions for conception and contraception. Wisely leaving the choice up to me. Or so I thought."  
  
"The information she sent to me must be a duplicate of that which she gave you. However, she omitted the contraception section."  
  
"Why am I not surprised?" She pulled his forehead down so that she could plant a kiss on hit. "You have a meeting with your advisors in less than two hours. What is Plan B?"  
  
He removed himself from their bed, pulling the covers over her. "We have two situations now. Our pregnancy and my quest to identify the traitor and solidify my power base."  
  
Tyr stoked the fire, drew back the bed curtains and ordered breakfast to be delivered to their room. "You are hungry?"  
  
"Starving now that you have satisfied my other appetite." She pulled her arms out from under the covers to rest on the bedspread. "I expect to be hungry for you again, though."  
  
"I am counting on it, Beka." He struck a pose, proud of his prowess and his physique. "Unfortunately, I must attend the meeting, before I can turn my attention to satisfying your appetite for me again."  
  
"Let's deal with the pregnancy situation, first." She lifted her arms so that she could count off the points on her fingers. "I will remain still in bed until you return. I will neither bathe, nor shower. I will do nothing to deter your genetic material from invading my genetic material. Is that satisfactory?"  
  
"Very. Your enthusiasm for our joint project is appreciated." He bent over the bed to kiss her cheek. "While we wait for the breakfast to arrive, I will shower."  
  
Beka put her hand on his arm to stop him. "Please don't."  
  
"Beka, my showering is not going to jeopardize the conception." He looked at her quizzically.  
  
"If you shower, you will wash away the scent of mating." She took a deep breath. "The aroma in this room and on your body is pure sex. They are going to be curious; especially if they heard about Hodur's little escapade. One whiff of you, Stud, and the questions will die in their throats."  
  
"I like it. And it will unsettle every one of them. Especially the ones without mates. There is nothing like the whiff of sex to arouse - " Beka grinned in appreciation at his choice of words. "- to arouse the competitive spirit of the Nietzschean male."  
  
"That scent is going to arouse the females too, isn't it?" The realization came too late to Beka, who was surprised at the depth of the jealousy she felt.  
  
"Perhaps. But I can use that to my advantage too!" He began to pull on his trousers.  
  
"How so?" Beka did not like the gleam in his eye. "I will decree that for the good of the Pride, all females capable of conception should spend the next two days making babies. And the unchosen males, they must participate in contests to attract mates."  
  
"Nine months from now this palace will be in turmoil." Beka sighed. "How is any of this going to help us find the traitor?"  
  
"Mating is as much about alliances as it about making children." He was fully clothed.  
  
"Ah, ha. In two days we will know exactly who is sleeping with whom."  
  
"Metaphorically and literally." Tyr responded to a discreet knock at the door.  
  
"Whoa, Dad." Tamerlane, carrying a tray of food, made a face, as he stepped through the door. "What is that smell? You should bottle it, we could make a fortune."  
  
Tyr was torn between pleasure that his fifteen-year old son did not immediately recognize the aroma of sex and trepidation that once informed he might attempt to replicate the situation. Tyr was not ready to become a grandfather.  
  
Beka came to his rescue, "Do you want a sister or a brother?"  
  
"So you did it. There were bets around the palace that you couldn't get it up anymore, Dad." Tamerlane began to set the food on the table.  
  
"Where did you place your money?" Tyr held his breath while he waited for the answer.  
  
"On Beka, Dad. I knew if anyone could, she could get you back in the saddle." He placed the last of the items on the table, then carried the tray to the bed.  
  
"Trance said that if I expect to have a sibling in nine months that you cannot get out of bed for the next two days." He rested the breakfast tray on Beka's lap. "Beka, I want a sibling, gender doesn't matter to me."  
  
Beka raised her hand. Tamerlane bent down so that she could touch his cheek. "You are going to make a wonderful big brother."  
  
"You bet I am." He headed for the door, stopping when his hand touched the knob. "Oh by the way, I have a request."  
  
Tyr and Beka waited in silence.  
  
"Father, with your permission, I would like to address Beka as Mother from now on." 


	6. Prideful Things

"Dad, I'll meet you in your council chambers at 06:00." Tamerlane closed the door behind him. His parents could hear a masculine murmur they assumed meant he had stopped to talk to the guards.  
  
"Our son has grown up." Beka leaned back against the pillow, no longer hungry. "Are you going to let him attend the meeting?"  
  
Tyr looked at the bedside clock. The meeting would begin in an hour. "I knew the time would come when he would begin to assert himself. I had hoped I had a few more years before he did."  
  
"That doesn't answer my question, Tyr."  
  
"You are his mother now, what counsel do you have for his father." Tyr sipped a cup of coffee. She needed time to think things through.  
  
"How much of a man were you at fifteen?"  
  
For nearly twenty years they had been each other's best friend, yet she continued to surprise him. In that moment he finally understood why no other female completed him the way that she did. He silently wished that his son would find a partner as remarkable as Beka.  
  
He put his coffee cup down and tossed his hair so it cascaded down his back. "At fifteen I was indentured to a consortium of flash dealers and weapons traders. I was a mule. I carried things, valuable things, from depot to depot. My life would have been forfeited if I my delivery was a milligram short or one weapon less than the original consignment."  
  
"You were never short and always arrived on time, didn't you." Beka at last understood why he had always shown such empathy toward her. They shared a painful youth. "He is your son, Tyr. It is time the Kodiak Pride understood that. It is time he knew the truth."  
  
"He still has much to learn. His education will begin today." He straightened. "I must speak to him about his language. He has spent too much time in Harper's company."  
  
Tyr stalked to the bed to kiss her good-bye, leaving behind a cloud of testosterone and machismo that never failed to soften her heart. She hoped that Tamerlane was among the rare few who knew of the tenderness of which he was capable. When the boy fulfilled his destiny, he would need to know there was a time for tenderness and a time for strength.  
  
She looked up when she heard the door open again. Tyr's disembodied head appeared.  
  
"There will be no mention of mating in the meeting. I do not want to put ideas into the boy's head before their time."  
  
"Good idea. But I will spend the morning rifling through the DNA database for possible mates, just in case." She grinned when his normally honeyed complexion turned pale. "Don't worry. I don't want to be a grandmother, before I am a mother."  
  
"Beka?"  
  
His tone of voice puzzled her. "Yes?"  
  
"Why did we wait so long?"  
  
She had to choose her words carefully, because the guards had not been dismissed. "Pride. Your's - and mine."  
  
The Alpha smiled ruefully. She was right, once again. 


	7. Unspoken Things

Fifteen minutes prior to the meeting Tyr found Tamerlane waiting in the council chamber. The boy rose when his father entered the room, as was the custom amongst the Kodiak whenever the Alpha first appeared. Tamerlane had never shown his father the courtesy. Tyr, taken aback, stopped on the threshold to regard his son.  
  
"That was a fine gift, son. Your mother and I thank you for it." The words fell from his mouth of their own volition. He had not been aware of the thought that propelled them.  
  
"Beka has been a mother to me longer than she has been a mate to you, Father." There was a question in the eyes of the boy.  
  
"She was my trusted friend before you were born, Tamerlane." Tyr strode across the room to his seat. "As I have been her friend. Friendship is a good place to start, when searching for a mate."  
  
Tamerlane sat on his haunches beside his father's chair, one hand on the arm, the other on his thigh. He stared forthrightly into the eyes of his father. Tyr could not help but see himself in the young man. There were traces of Freya too. Tamerlane had inherited his mother's prominent cheekbones.  
  
"Your birth mother, she would have become a friend had we the time to know each other." Tyr patted the hand that rested on the arm of the chair. "She sacrificed her life to ensure that you lived, son. We will honour her memory always for that."  
  
"We are in trouble, aren't we, Father?" The young man whispered his question. "Beka came to our world to support you in our fight, didn't she? If she carries your child, she can no longer fight. I can."  
  
Tyr drew his son into a powerful embrace, then whispered in his ear, "Your first foray against our invisible enemy is to remain silent during this meeting. Watch for unusual behaviour. Make mental notes. We will compare them afterward, when I bring you up-to-date."  
  
"Excuse me, my Lord." Tyr and Tamlerane broke their embrace, when they heard the words. "I did not mean to interrupt."  
  
"Nestor," Tyr rose to greet his second-in-command. "Tamerlane has agreed to apprentice in the family business. His lessons begin today, with this meeting. I have told him to avail himself of your experience and wisdom."  
  
"I am honoured, my Lord."  
  
Nestor invited Tamerlane to join him in the salute of the warrior. Tamerlane was now a man.  
  
  
  
Beka expected Olma to visit. She had not expected the visit to occur while she was eating breakfast.  
  
"Good morning, Olma."  
  
She may have been surprised, but Captain Valentine refused to let the woman know it.  
  
"One must arise early to participate in the business of the House of Anasazi, I see." Olma settled in the chair beside the fireplace. "How are you this morning, Rebecca?"  
  
"Pregnant, I hope." Beka sipped her juice. "I am waiting for the results of the blood test."  
  
"And if you are not?" The matriarch's eyes darted about the room, taking in the scattered clothing, the disheveled bedclothes and Beka's apparent nakedness. She raised an inquiring eyebrow?  
  
"Then the Alpha will be informed." She put the juice glass down. "Have no fear, Olma, the Alpha will rise to the occasion."  
  
"Perhaps you would like a shawl around your shoulders?"  
  
"No thank you. I am quite comfortable." Beka did not want the woman close enough to read the flexi screen.  
  
"Where is Tamerlane? It is my habit to breakfast with him. He was not in his room."  
  
Fear clutched at Beka's gut. We must break that habit she thought.  
  
"He wanted to be the first to congratulate his father. He presented me with a wonderful gift." Beka smiled with pure pleasure.  
  
"A gift?" Olma looked around the room. "May I see it?"  
  
"It wasn't that kind of gift. He asked his father for permission to address me as mother."  
  
The smile changed to a beam. Beka was truly thrilled at the gesture and pleased that it clearly up set the matriarch. A gift that keeps on giving, she thought.  
  
Beka poured salt into the wound. "He told me that he has no preference as to gender, as long as the baby is healthy. Tamerlane is looking forward to becoming a big brother."  
  
"You are a fortunate woman indeed, Rebecca." Olma rose to leave. "You have become a mother twice in one day. The ritual certainly is potent."  
  
"And so is the Alpha." Beka had the last word.  
  
"But Dad, I like Uncle Seamus. He still has a lot to teach me."  
  
The principle males of the Kodiak Pride breezed through the doorway into the suite. The guards had opened both doors to let the large men enter at the same time unencumbered by doorknobs and narrow passages.  
  
Beka gazed on her men with appreciation. She would be hard pressed to find two finer specimens in the universe. Tamerlane was still a scrawny boy, but the frame was evident. He would fill out magnificently.  
  
"Olma!" Tamerlane greeted the matriarch warmly. "Did you hear? Father let me attend the council meeting as a warrior."  
  
"Your - mother - has just told me. It is about time you took your place at your father's side." Olma kissed the boy on the cheek - bowed her head to Tyr - then left the room. The matriarch's cool demeanour had dropped the room temperature 10 degrees.  
  
Tyr turned to Beka. "What was that all about?"  
  
"We will discuss it later. Tell me about the meeting."  
  
She patted the empty space beside her. Tamerlane fell spread-eagled onto the spot. Tyr closed and bolted the doors, before settling in the chair recently vacated by the matriarch. He crossed his legs out in front of him, pleased to be surrounded by his family, even if the arrangement were only temporary. 


	8. Things Past

"Beka, I insist on taking a shower, now." His tone of voice told Beka he had made up his mind.  
  
When the en suite door closed behind him, Tamerlane said, "Has Father always taken your advice? That was a wily move, not showering before the meeting."  
  
Beka smiled. "There was nothing wily about it. Tyr taught me along time ago to use what I knew about the enemy against him. Nietzschean's are creatures of habit and conditioning. Habit and routine are anti-survival. Unpredictability, now that will keep you alive."  
  
"Lower your voice an octave and you would sound just like Dad." Tamerlane chuckled. "How long have we known each other?"  
  
"Ten years." Beka stroked his forehead. "I will never forget the day that we met. It was a day of many firsts. It was the first day of my first vacation in five years. It was the first time Tyr had invited me to spend social time, here, in his new home. It was the first time I knew I was capable of maternal feelings."  
  
Tamerlane rolled over. "Father had prepared me for your visit. He told me that a beautiful slipstream pilot was coming to stay with us for a short while. He said that I was to call you Beka, because you were our friend. He said that you would teach me to fly, but most of all you would show me how to trust. I didn't understand a word he said except slipstream pilot and learn to fly." He smiled. "I understood beautiful the minute I saw you. Golden hair shining in the sun. And a smile that made me feel safe and welcome."  
  
"And your smile," Beka sighed and closed her eyes. "Your smile was shy and reluctant. You wanted to hide behind your father, but you fought your fear and stood tall. Tyr was so proud of you for that. Did you know? You put your hand out to shake mine. I couldn't resist. I reeled you in like a fish on line. You stole my heart and I just had to hug you."  
  
"I was the envy of every boy in the hand-to-hand combat class." Tamerlane sat up. "You came to watch me later that day. It was the first time a female cheered me on. Calling my name. Applauding. Letting the whole world know you were proud of me. I was like the other boys. Dad and I had a female of our own."  
  
"I was human." Beka touched his shoulder. "Didn't the other boys tease you about my DNA?"  
  
"Who would dare tease Tyr Anasazi's son about his relationship with his flying instructor?" Tamerlane chuckled - the sound identical to that of his father. "She was the best slipstream pilot in the galaxy. No, they wanted to be my friend so that they could meet you."  
  
"And you brought them all home." Beka hugged her knees. "Boys are noisy! You were all so eager to learn. Boasting and pushing each other about. I had had no experience with a gaggle of five-year old boys. I was rude to your father for days for throwing me in the parental deep end."  
  
"Did you know that he wanted you to be my surrogate mother?" The answer to that question had haunted the boy for years.  
  
"I knew that the Kodiak had entrusted me with his most precious possession. We had a tacit understanding that if I accepted the assignment, as your instructor that I would be part of your life for as long as you needed me. Did I think he wanted me to be your surrogate mother? No. The Pride was not ready to accept a human, even if she was the best slipstream pilot in the galaxy."  
  
"Is that why you never chose, Father?" He had to know.  
  
"I asked her much the same question earlier today, son."  
  
Neither of them had noticed that Tyr had returned, wrapped in a terry robe, relaxed and refreshed.  
  
Her men turned at the same time to watch her face as they waited for her answer.  
  
"I told Tyr that the reason we did not act upon our feelings toward each other was Pride. His and mine. So you are half right, Tam. The Kodiak Pride would not welcome the match and my pride would not let me accept an inferior status."  
  
"Inferior status?" The boy looked from his father to his mother.  
  
"When it became clear," began Tyr, "that I would not mate again, the matriarch asked me for an explanation, as is her right. I explained that Beka was my only desire, she said that the council had discussed the situation and had agreed to offer her a generous stipend, make her the head flying instructor at the academy if she would accept the role of my mistress."  
  
"What Tyr did not know was that they had already made the offer to me. They wanted me to choose him, but only if I would present the offer, making it clear that I wanted nothing more from the relationship than sexual gratification." Beka slid over to give Tyr room to sit beside her. "I didn't know that your father had refused the council's suggestion. I did not know that he wanted me as a mate."  
  
Tamerlane hit his father on the shoulder. "You didn't tell her." The scathing tone said more than his words.  
  
"Pride, son. A Nietzschean flaw. Do not make the same mistake that I did when it is your turn to make decisions. Set aside your pride, Tamerlane, if in your heart you know the decision is right."  
  
"So Dad, it is ten years later. You are mated, making a baby. What is different about the situation now?"  
  
"Time, darling." Beka sighed. "Your father and I are running out of time. And time has softened the council's attitude toward me."  
  
"Another lesson of state." Tyr made eye contact with his heir. "Sometimes a good idea occurs at the wrong time. Hold on to the idea son, until the time is right."  
  
"Is the time right to learn why you had my DNA erased from the Nietzschean database?" 


	9. Things Untold

A pounding on the door interrupted the answer to his question. Beka tried to hide her relief. Tyr covered his by shouting, "Who dares disturb the Alpha and his family?"  
  
"Hey Big Guy." Harper threw open both doors and rolled past the disgruntled guards. "Are we pregnant yet?"  
  
"We?" Beka and Tyr yelled at the same moment.  
  
Tamerlane dashed across the room to grab the small man in a hug that lifted him off his feet.  
  
"At least someone other than my thirty-one wives is pleased to see me." Harper slapped the boy on the back. "Are we pregnant yet?"  
  
The doors remained wide open. The senior guard pulled one side closed, then stood at attention in the doorframe of the other one.  
  
Tyr acknowledged the soldier with a snappy, "What is it?"  
  
"The Lord Mechanic, he would not take no for an answer."  
  
"He never has. Return to your duty and close the door."  
  
"That's Lord Engineer to you, dogface," shouted Harper to the closing door. "The discipline is quantum mechanics, the application requires a quantum engineer. You would think after ten years that your people would understand the difference."  
  
"Uncle Seamus, why are you using 'we'?" Tamlerane released his grip. "Is that a Harperism?"  
  
Harper strolled over to the bed to kiss Beka on the cheek. He placed a hand on the sheets above her stomach.  
  
"That's my son-in-law, the father of my grandchildren, cooking in there. That makes us family. And you should know by now, my boy, that in the land of the Kodiak family is family. There are no individuals."  
  
Beka raised her eyebrows. "Seamus Harper, you peeked."  
  
"What's the point of being in charge of all Kodiak cyber-security, if I can't use my All-Access Pass for advance news every now and then?" Harper presented Beka with a data file.  
  
"Tyr," Beka squealed. "We are pregnant. Tamerlane, you are going to have a brother." She reached for Harper to envelop him in her arms.  
  
"Blessed be, the First Father, for recording the first impregnation." Tyr yelled, slapping his son on the back.  
  
Beka started to laugh, "It was the First Mother, who recorded it for posterity. The First Father spent too much time bragging about his prowess with his cronies to make notes."  
  
"Let's see, by the time the little gaffer is old enough to be chosen, I should have," Harper tapped his data pad, "fifteen eligible daughters. I'll send you their DNA charts when I get home, Beka."  
  
"Wait a minute!" Tamerlane tried to drag order out of chaos. "What is wrong with my DNA, Uncle Seamus, that you would not encourage me to display for your daughters?"  
  
Silence so loud that they could hear the blood rushing through their veins blanketed the room.  
  
"You haven't told him, then?" Harper sat on a chair by the breakfast table. The effervescence with which he arrived sapped from his body.  
  
"Tyr was about to tell him, when you interrupted us." Beka smiled. "A welcome interruption, Seamus."  
  
"Tyr was going to tell him?" Harper shook his finger at her. "How could you?"  
  
"Enough." Tamerlane drew himself to his full height and put the power of perfect Nietzschean lungs behind the bellow. "Lord Engineer, since you expect to be the grandfather of my future niece or nephew and have access to all state secrets, tell me why my DNA record has been erased from the Kodiak database."  
  
"It hasn't been erased, Tamerlane." Harper looked sheepish. "It was never entered."  
  
The disclosure stopped the boy cold. Not recording DNA was a federal offense, punishable by banishment from the Pride. "But I've seen it. Olma would show it to me on my birthday."  
  
"Son, Olma showed you what we wanted the world to see, until it became to risky, then Harper erased that entry." Tyr interjected. "Your DNA was sent to the central registry at your birth. Olma did it on behalf of your mother and the Orca Pride. When the Orca were destroyed, those DNA records were sealed."  
  
Harper took up the tale, "When the Kodiak Pride was reestablished, your father put me in charge of cyber-security and asked me to fudge your records, until the time was right."  
  
Beka finished for him, "Tamerlane, that time is now."  
  
Tyr wrapped an arm around the boy's shoulders. "Sit down, son. We will try to reduce a fifteen-year long story into a few moments."  
  
  
  
"So, the only other people in the universe who know that I am the reincarnation," Tamerlane stumbled over the last part, still not convinced of the truth of the story, "are Beka, Harper, Olma, Dylan, Trance and Rommie."  
  
Tyr nodded, "No one has been more loyal to you and your destiny than they have been. Should anything happen to me, trust them with your life, Tamerlane, as I have all these years."  
  
"Must I be the reincarnation, Father?" Tamerlane beseeched the older man. "Why can't I be plain, ordinary Tamerlane Anasazi, out of Freya, by Tyr, with a destiny far in the future as a Kodiak Alpha?"  
  
Beka answered for them all; "To be an Alpha, you must submit your DNA for examination. To be a Neitzschean husband and father, you must submit your DNA for examination. Either way, your secret is out. The only choice that you have is to never submit your DNA for examination and denounce the Neitzschean life. But that won't assure your anonymity. What happens if you are injured beyond the capability of your nanobots? Blood will be drawn. Tests will be conducted. Your identity will not remain secret for long."  
  
"The only way that we can protect you, Tamerlane," Harper continued, "is to proclaim your identity, with all the pomp and circumstance to which you are entitled."  
  
"What about becoming a husband and father?" Tamerlane let a tear tickle down his cheek. "Will that be denied me as it has been denied my father?"  
  
Beka wished that she could dash across the room and embrace the boy, but she had the welfare of his brother to consider. She remained where she was flashing signals at the father of her baby.  
  
Tyr could see her distress, but took a moment to interpret it. When he understood at last, he turned to his first born and placed a hand on each of the lad's upper arms. Holding him at arm's length, he presented the first of his options.  
  
"Child of my loins, you may have no choice, but to make me a grandfather a hundred times over." 


	10. Intimate Things

"Hundreds?" Tamerlane whispered. "Hundreds? Father, Harper has 24 children from 31 wives and that took him 10 years."  
  
"I started late," said Harper in his own defense. "And I'm only human. I don't produce the quantity and quality of genetic material that a Nietzschean male does. But I make up for it in the delivery. Ask my wives."  
  
"Are there no other options?" Tamerlane gripped his father's forearms tightly. "Please, Father, there must be other options."  
  
"Son, we plan to explore all your options, before making the announcement. There are skills to acquire, people to meet, philosophy to read." Try released his grip, so Tamerlane released his, their arms falling to their sides.  
  
"Seamus, you have been a true friend, may I call on you once more to protect the House of Anasazi?"  
  
"Tyr, why should I stop risking my ass for you now?" Behind the mask of wit and braggadocio, Tamerlane glimpsed the man. Tears pooled in Harper's eyes.  
  
"Without divulging his status to your wives, children and retainers, please take Tamerlane home with you." Tyr pushed his son toward the courtesy uncle. "Have your ladies tell him about life in a household like yours. He has lived too long in a bachelor's quarters. Tell them that you are preparing him for his role as husband as a courtesy to me."  
  
Harper nodded.  
  
"Son, listen with an open heart." Tyr squeezed the lad's shoulder. "If you choose to reject this option for your life, you must do so from knowledge, not fear. Every choice that you make will be questioned. The knowledge you gather today may be vital to your survival tomorrow."  
  
The men began to move toward the doorway, when Beka spoke, "Tamerlane, would you sit by me a moment? Tyr, take Harper to communications so that an announcement of our pregnancy can be released. Tamerlane will meet you there in a few minutes."  
  
Harper shrugged. Tyr nodded in agreement. Tamerlane turned around to walk to the bed. When Beka was sure that they were alone, she clasped his hands in hers.  
  
"I never knew your birth mother, but I think I can speak for her, because I love you as a mother loves a son." Beka searched his eyes for some evidence that he believed her.  
  
"What do my mothers want me to hear?" He squeezed the hands that held his.  
  
"We are proud of the man you have become." She sighed. "But we are afraid of the future and the burden you will carry. Your father and I have had the support of some amazing people while we waited for you to grow up. You will not be alone through this, Tamerlane. Ask questions of us? Challenge our presumptions? Vent your frustrations. We won't reject you. This is my pledge to you, on behalf of Freya. Remember that she gave her life so that you would live."  
  
Tamerlane kissed her on the forehead in response. She watched as he strode out past the guards. They saluted as if they knew something momentous had occurred on their watch.  
  
  
  
More conversation outside the bedroom door awoke Beka from a nap. She remained still, watching through her eyelashes. Both doors swung open to reveal the arrival of a new guard detail. Once the doors were open, the old guard snapped to attention as Tyr passed. He had been escorted to the room by the fresh detail. "Carry on," he ordered as he passed.  
  
He paused when he noticed that Beka was resting. She watched as he changed from the charismatic warrior Alpha to an attentive lover. Gently closing the doors, sliding the old fashioned bolt in place to keep everyone out, including Harper. Carefully he removed his outer garments, gently depositing them on a chair seat. He unbuckled his holsters, quietly hanging them on a hook by the door. He untied the leather thong that held his hair back. The locs fell loosely about his face and shoulders.  
  
"Do I excite you, woman?" His hands halted at the waistband of his trousers. "Do you hunger for something only I can provide?" One button slipped out of its restraint. "Perhaps you want to run your hands over my chest?" He dropped his shirt on the floor. "Would you like to wrap your legs around my waist?" His boots came off. "We could do battle, tongue to tongue? Would that excite you?" Another trouser button slipped its restraint. "Your hands in my hair, while I tug at your breast, do you want that?" The final button came undone. Friction was all that held his trousers in place. "I can hear your racing heart, Beka." He pushed the trousers lower on his hip. "The scent of your arousal is intoxicating." His groin was barely covered. "I want to taste your honeyed waters, Beka." The trousers fell around his ankles. "Look at me, woman." He stepped out of the garment pooled on the floor. "Look at me."  
  
With her heart in her throat, blood rushing through her veins and her womb tight with desire, she opened one eye. He waited, in full display, for her command. She opened the other eye. His were smoldering. She pushed aside the sheets to let cooling air touch her fevered skin. He was trembling, control slipping away as his eyes travelled from her toes to her head.  
  
"We've made a baby, Tyr. You are under no obligation to continue the charade." Fear that he would take the opening the she had given him gripped Beka.  
  
"Beka, last night we joined to protect our son and satisfy your desire to experience motherhood. Now I want us to join out of desire for each other. For ten years I ached to touch you as a man touches his woman. For ten years, I saved myself for you, Beka. Let me show you what we missed."  
  
Tyr did not move. His manhood strained forward as if seeking its home. His muscles clenched in his arms. His legs wound tight as if to pounce, but he held his ground.  
  
"Not once in ten years?" Beka was stupefied. "You saved yourself for me?" Tears flowed from her eyes. A lump formed in her throat. "We have a lot of catching up to do." She spread her arms wide with welcome.  
  
  
  
"Are you sure we didn't hurt the baby?" Tyr rumbled contentedly.  
  
"It's rather too late to worry about that now, Tyr." She raised herself on one elbow. "Trance said it would be all right, when she gave me the lecture."  
  
"She also said that once the pregnancy was confirmed that you could bathe." Tyr rolled out of bed. "Stay there while I draw your bath, my lady."  
  
She watched his backside with pleasure as he strutted to the en suite, puffed with self-satisfaction at his ability to satisfy her. She grinned. She had to hand it to the man. A ten-year hiatus didn't seen to hamper his style one bit.  
  
"How much did Tamerlane win?" Her question brought Tyr to a complete halt.  
  
"A thousand thrones." Tyr stepped into the bathroom, calling over his shoulders, "At 10:1."  
  
"Damn, the boy had faith." Said Beka to no one in particular. "He would have won if the odds had been 100:1. That man of mine is irresistible, when he is in the mating mood." 


	11. The Fourth Thing

Beka breathed deeply, drawing the moist damp air into her lungs. She held her breath before exhaling, enjoying the aroma of the oils Tyr had added to the water. She exhaled sharply when his hands kneaded a knot in the muscles at the base of her neck. She leaned back against his chest. His arms snaked around her, his hands coming to rest between her thighs. His knees were bent, forming two islands in the tub. He planted his feet between her lower legs, sliding them apart. The warm water lapped against their bodies. Tyr bent his head to kiss her shoulder. His hair fell forward, causing her body to shiver as his locs slid over her skin.  
  
"This morning we had two issues, now we have three." Beka thought out loud.  
  
"Our baby, the traitor and now the emerging reincarnation." Tyr confirmed as his fingers caressed the juncture between her legs.  
  
Beka squirmed with pleasure, causing Tyr to hold her tighter, while his other hand continued to stimulate her.  
  
"They are parts of the same puzzle, aren't they, Tyr?" She threw her head back against his shoulder and arched her back in response to his ministration.  
  
"Yes."  
  
Beka wasn't sure if Tyr had responded to her question or her uncontrollable response to his touch.  
  
"There is a fourth issue, Beka." Tyr's grip on her waist grew tighter and he increased the tempo of his strokes.  
  
Beka moaned, pushed down with her abdominal muscles, and drew her knees up to grant him full access to her lower body.  
  
"What is that?" she panted the words. "More Tyr, please."  
  
He increased the pressure. Her breathing grew ragged. He nibbled on her neck as he continued to stroke her to release.  
  
"The fourth issue is the parameters of our relationship." His tongue stroked her earlobe, sending a shiver down her spine.  
  
"Tyr, we've made a baby together. What more is there to discuss?" The last question was expelled with a sigh as her body quaked with pleasure.  
  
Tyr watched as her limbs convulsed and her toes curled. He continued to pleasure her, creating aftershocks that started a tidal wave within the tub.  
  
"We can set aside that issue for the moment. The other three must take priority." He turned her head so that his lips could capture hers. "But we will return to it, Beka. We must return to it."  
  
With his hands on either side of the tub, Tyr raised himself out of the water. Beka leaned back, reluctant to leave the aromatic, wet cocoon of water. Tyr had other plans. He bent over, slipping his arms under her body and raised her from the water. He set her down, wrapping a huge towel around her when she was safe on her feet. He reached for a smaller towel to wrap around her head, and then he began to rub her all over with the larger towel. Beka luxuriated in the attention to her comfort that he so willingly gave.  
  
Tyr was kneeling, wiping her lower body. She rested a hand on his head to keep her balance. "Tyr?"  
  
Something about the tone of her voice made Tyr stop and look up to meet her gaze.  
  
"Tyr." Beka struggle to find the words.  
  
"What Beka?" His tone was tender and patient.  
  
"You are the only one I have shared my body with in the past ten years." She held her breath, waiting for his response.  
  
He kissed her belly. "And for the rest of your life, if you wish it, Beka."  
  
She exhaled. Had he just offered to be more than the father of her baby?  
  
She kneeled so that they were face to face. He did not flinch as she stared into his eyes, searching for any doubt that might reside there.  
  
"This morning, I sent Dylan a request for an extended leave of absence. I can promise you that for the next nine months I will remain at your side forsaking all others."  
  
Tyr drew her into his embrace. "Make it ten, one month for every year we denied ourselves."  
  
"Ten it is."  
  
They kissed to seal their pledge. 


	12. Girl Things

"My Lord." A guard was shouting outside their door. "My Lord Kodiak." Someone began pounding on the door. "My Lord, please."  
  
He was awake, leaning against pillows, reading the flexies Beka had pulled earlier in the day. She lay sleeping at his side. He was pleased that she could sleep through the hullabaloo. The first clue that he was mistaken was a vice like grip on his genitals. The second was the muffled sentence, "Get rid of them, Tyr."  
  
He tried to detach her hand. She squeezed harder. This was an aspect of intimacy with Beka that he had never considered. "Beka," he whispered seductively, "I can not stop the noise if you do not let go."  
  
She released her grip, but not before seductively stroking the part of him that she considered her own. He took the caress as it was intended as an apology. "That is a promise I expect you to keep, when the noise has subsided." He placed a kiss at the nape of her neck.  
  
"My Lord." The plea was desperate. "Please, my Lord, open the door."  
  
"I am coming," he bellowed. "Stop that noise, my wife is sleeping."  
  
Beka smiled into her pillow. His bellow was enough to wake the dead. He got points for consideration, but lost them on execution. Beka was on her stomach, the position in which their last expression of intimacy had ended. She had not changed position, knowing that sleeping on her stomach would soon be impossible. She was pregnant and the father was Tyr Anasazi, the Alpha Kodiak, perhaps the most sought after Nietzschean Alpha in the universe. She had been unaware that her life was about to change irrevocably, sixteen years ago, when he stood in the door of the Andromeda Gauss gun erect, bone blades at alert, a package of testosterone so intense that momentarily she forgot the danger in which she was.  
  
"Have you regretted that moment, Kodiak?" she whispered to the pillow.  
  
On the way to open the door, Tyr had drawn the curtain across the foot of the bed. The small gesture gave her the privacy she needed to cover her nakedness with the robe that he had tossed across the bed.  
  
When she emerged, covered and curious, she discovered Tyr, wearing only his leathers, hands on his hips, glaring angrily at a dozen women of various shapes and sizes. Peeping out from amongst them was Harper, looking sheepish. The women were dressed in a dazzling array of silks and satins. In their hands they held boxes and baskets. Their chatter was incessant and, now that the doors were open, very loud. Beka waved at Tamerlane, standing heads above them all at the back of the pack. He shrugged as if to say he would not accept the blame for the intrusion.  
  
Beka wished that she could see Tyr's face. She was sure that exasperation and affection were vying for dominance. Tyr needed rescuing.  
  
"Darling?" God where did that come from? "Tyr?" So engrossed was he in the chaos before him that he failed to respond.  
  
Tamerlane waved, trying to direct his father's attention to Beka. He failed.  
  
Beka put two fingers in her mouth and blew. The sharp blast caused the guards to bring their weapons into a defensive position. Harper looked past Tyr, who whipped around to identify the source of the sound. The woman fell silent as if on cue.  
  
"Thank you." Beka smoothed her robe, then drew the belt about her waist tighter.  
  
"Darling?" She strode to Tyr's side, placing her hand on his arm. "Why don't you invite our guests in?" She stepped back, bringing Tyr into line with a gentle tug on his arm. As the crowd poured in she tugged on Tyr's arm so that he brought his ear down to her mouth. "Tyr, go change into something more appropriate for receiving guests, please." He raised an eyebrow, then strolled to the wardrobe, retrieving articles of clothing. He winked at her just before entering the bathroom.  
  
Tamerlane sauntered over to her. "Mother, I can explain."  
  
"No explanation is necessary, Tamerlane. This is extremely Harperesque." She grinned. "Would you please find some more chairs for our guests and order some refreshments."  
  
"My pleasure," said the reincarnation of Drago Museveni, taking on the role of butler as if born to it.  
  
"Harper." The engineer cringed. He recognized her command voice, even though he had not been subject to it for nearly a decade.  
  
"Jeez, Beka. They are a force of nature." Reading her body language, he forestalled the tirade, by beginning the introductions. "Captain Valentine, may I introduce you to some of my wives."  
  
"Seamus."  
  
From out of the indistinguishable crowd of feminine faces a voice rose. Beka recognized instantly the tone of a woman used to being in charge. She scanned the crowd. A ripple began as woman moved out of the way to allow someone to pass. Still she could not see the woman to whom they were deferring.  
  
Beka turned to Harper, who held out is hand to a petite beauty, ten years older than he, who had emerged from the back of the crowd.  
  
"Beka, this potent package or power and passion is my First Wife, Anna, out of Simone by Balthazar of the Sabra Pride."  
  
Anna approached following closely behind a protruding stomach that seemed to be as large as she was. "Anna is due to give birth at any moment to our fifth child and the Harper clan's twenty-fifth child. I told her that she should rest quietly at home, but she insisted on congratulating you on the conception."  
  
Harper put his arm protectively around the woman who had found the man inside the boy ten years before.  
  
"Please, sit down. I have looked forward to making your acquaintance. Harper has spoken of you with such respect." Beka pulled a chair out for her guest.  
  
"Thank you, Beka. But if I sit down I may never get up again. My time approaches rapidly." She took Beka's hands between her own.  
  
"We wanted you to know that you are welcome to attend our prenatal classes, consult with our seamstresses and interior designers. We ask you to share with us the fitness classes that we hold every day for the pregnant wives." She released her grip. "Harper says that you have no female relatives to assist you with the adjustment to motherhood. Consider us your sisters as the Kodiak considers our husband his brother."  
  
Tyr emerged from the bathroom at that precise moment. "Harper, how you ever managed to be chosen by such a generous beauty is beyond my comprehension." He kissed Anna on the cheek. "Take your lady home. I will entertain your less pregnant wives while Beka changes her attire. It appears that this afternoon will be dedicated to female business."  
  
"Tyr, I wish you would stop reminding Anna that she could have done better. One day she may believe you and leave me. Then I would have to kill you." Tyr did not laugh. Harper meant it. "My apologies, Lord Engineer. And to you Anna, First Wife of the Lord Engineer. You chose more wisely than any would have believed."  
  
The minutes later when Beka emerged from the bathroom, refreshed and dressed like the slipstream captain she was she stepped into a scene of overwhelming domesticity. Tamerlane was passing through the room with a tray of canapés in one hand and napkins in the other. Tyr was pouring tea, which was being passed to their guests, by what Beka presumed to be the most junior wife. Her loins heated. A man confidant enough to pour tea without believing it sapped his masculinity was arousing. She was pleased to see Tamerlane displayed the same nonchalance as his father.  
  
Tyr poured the last cup of tea, then turned his attention to his wife. "Rebecca, you are radiant."  
  
She felt radiant - fresh from the shower, after hours of unsurpassed intimacy with the man who held her heart, a baby growing in her womb, while her older child stood tall and healthy - any woman would be radiant.  
  
A cloud of concern hovered on the horizon. Beka pushed it to the back of her mind. They would have to deal with it soon enough. 


	13. Nietzschean Thing

Tamerlane completed his preflight check, then turned to his father to ask, "Where do you want to go, Dad?"  
  
Tyr took a moment to consider their options. He had suggested to Tamerlane that they logged some flight time, while the ladies kept Beka occupied. His objective was time alone with his son; the destination did not matter.  
  
"If I were not on board, where would you go?"  
  
Tamerlane considered for a moment, punched in flight coordinates, then launched the runabout. "The Academy is holding a display competition this afternoon."  
  
Tyr blinked. "Do you want to enter the competition?" He was not comfortable with his son's rapid maturity.  
  
Tamerlane answered his question with a question. "Would you have entered at my age?"  
  
Tyr waited until Tamerlane had been given clearance by ground control to exit the civilian air space. For security, the Alpha always travelled the military transit routes. Tyr imagined that an admiral or two had been alerted that The Kodiak was in the air on an unscheduled flight.  
  
"Well, Dad?" Tamerlane turned the chair to face his father, after putting the ship on automatic pilot.  
  
"When I was fifteen I was performing questionable tasks for undesirables. I was an outcast, without a Pride or sponsors. I had been an orphan for four years. Displaying was inconceivable."  
  
"Dad, before the Dragons came did Kodiak males display at fifteen?"  
  
Tyr considered his words carefully. "You are the future of the Nietzschean people. You must respect the past and the old traditions, but you may have to forge new paths for your people to follow."  
  
"Plaguenation, Father. What does the future of the Nietzschean people have to do with an Academy display competition?"  
  
Tyr could see the Academy Orbital out the port window. They were minutes from docking. From his station, he disengaged the autopilot, bringing their transit to a halt. The ship floated in space, the idling engines underscoring their conversation.  
  
"My explanation is for your ears only. Do not share it with another. Consider my words. Should you wish to discuss them again, suggest that you take me flying. Do not, under any circumstances, speak to me of this in the presence of others."  
  
Tyr had turned from warm and loving father to stern and demanding Alpha right before his eyes. "Yes my Lord Kodiak."  
  
"Have you not asked yourself how it is that our woman hold the power to procreate? When did that start? After all we are the progeny of two males, our female ancestors are never mentioned. Did the Progenitor copulate randomly? No female was designed for him by Paul Museveni to our knowledge."  
  
Tyr waited for Tamerlane to digest the information.  
  
"He would have done the choosing of his females." The face of his son was animated with surprise.  
  
Tyr continued, "Our current tradition has left the maintenance of the blood lines to the woman to perfect. Tamerlane when you were born perfection was achieved. There is no Nietzschean alive - male or female - who has DNA better than yours - or more favored."  
  
"Dad, we have come full circle. By definition, any Nietzschean female is inferior."  
  
Tyr's pride at his son's understanding showed in his face.  
  
"So I must choose my mate or mates. I could consult with the matriarchs, but ultimately the choice is mine."  
  
"Do you see why you cannot mention this to anyone."  
  
"That would pull the foundations out from under the entire Nietzschean social structure." His stomach roiled in protest.  
  
"We aren't ready to do that yet, son." Tyr patted the lad on his shoulder.  
  
"And I suppose you are going to tell me that every single Pride is going to want my DNA added to theirs." Tamerlane chuckled. "That's why you think I'm going to give hundreds of grandchildren."  
  
Tyr nodded.  
  
"Dad, if I agreed to that, my life would be one impregnation after the other. I'd never leave my bed." Tamerlane shuddered. "The only word I would need in my vocabulary is next."  
  
"That is what could happen if we took this to its most ridiculous outcome." Tyr grinned. "Don't tell Beka this, but there is a certain appeal to a life where one's only obligation is to service her for the rest of my life."  
  
"Dad, that's way too much information." Tamerlane was appalled.  
  
"Don't be so prudish. We've just been talking about you fathering hundreds of children. What is wrong with me keeping one female thoroughly satisfied?"  
  
"Does this mean I shouldn't enter the displaying competition?" Tamerlane brought them back to their immediate concerns.  
  
"The more you prove yourself, the stronger will be your position, when we make your claim." Tyr resumed their flight. "Participation is up to you, Tamerlane. However, please, do not accept any offers that might result."  
  
"So I can be beaten to a pulp, but I can't mate. All pain, no gain."  
  
"Exactly." 


	14. Choosing Things

Tyr steeled himself as Tamerlane entered the arena. It would not enhance the boy's reputation if his father flinched every time a blow hit home. Keeping one eye on the competition, he turned his thoughts to their arrival. Tyr often used the technique of separating what he witnessed from what he thought during diplomatic meetings.  
  
When Tamerlane logged his flight plan, some enterprising flight controller sent an alert to the Academy directorate. When The Alpha and his son arrived they were greeted at the docking bay by a phalanx of gold braid and stiff upper lips.  
  
The commandant of the Academy had spoken a few words of welcome. Tyr thought the commandant had shown some imagination tying the announcement of the pregnancy to the true purpose of the competition. He speculated that the dockside welcome was to allow the maintenance crew time to arrange a special box from which the Alpha and his heir could watch the matches. Tyr had hoped Tamerlane would choose not to participate. He should have known better.  
  
A loud oh exhaled by the crowd, brought him back to the present. Tamerlane was on his back, his competitor gloating, waiting for the vanquished to surrender. He waited too long. Tamerlane kicked the legs out from under him, then put his fully erect boneblades at the inferior's throat. The judges awarded the match to Tamerlane.  
  
Tyr scanned the crowd, seeming to pay no particular attention to anyone. He hoped to catch the honest reaction of the females who had attended in hopes of choosing a mate. The commandant had supplied him with a list, their lineage and DNA. He was relieved when he found that an image of each of the women was attached to the file.  
  
Ah, he thought, there in the top row, Tamerlane has caught her fancy. He flipped through the file, searching for a match. Just as he found the right one, Tyr felt a hand on his shoulder. Tamerlane had returned. He looked over his father's shoulder at the data pad that he held.  
  
"Plain, but there is strength of character in her face." Tyr agreed with the assessment of his son.  
  
"Her DNA is excellent. Her lineage, however, is rather obscure, although she is the great-granddaughter of an Alpha from her maternal line." Tyr recited from the page.  
  
"Damning her with faint praise, Father?" Tamerlane raised an eyebrow in question. Tyr felt as if he were looking in a mirror.  
  
"I could be describing, Beka." Tyr surprised his son with the admission.  
  
"Does this one have a talent as rare as mother's?" Tamerlane took the pad from his father. "No mention of piloting skills."  
  
"The qualities that I most cherish in your mother are not included in any mating documents," another surprise for Tamerlane in a day full of them.  
  
"What would they be, Father?" Tamerlane held his father's gaze as he waited for his answer.  
  
"Her intelligence and loyalty." A far away look appeared on his face. "I was blind to both for a long time."  
  
"How did you come the realization?" Tamerlane leaned close to his father to reduce the likelihood of strangers overhearing the answer.  
  
"I have you to thank for that." Tyr grinned at the consternation on the face of the boy. "When at last I was able to acknowledge you as my son, I started looking for a stepmother for you. Olma loved you, but she could not keep up with a rapidly growing little boy."  
  
"You were looking for a mate at the same time?" Tamerlane prompted his father.  
  
"No, I was prepared to mate with the woman if that was necessary to bind her to us. Against the wishes of the matriarch I considered sterile females."  
  
"Father, do you enjoy breaking with tradition?" Tamerlane smiled with affection.  
  
Tyr patted his son on the shoulder. "Tradition ended and began with your birth, my son."  
  
"So what made you realize that Beka was the mate for you?"  
  
"I had created a list of qualities that I hoped your stepmother would embody, when I began my search. I was disheartened after an unsuccessful and exhaustive search amongst the Nietzschean Prides. In desperation I reread the list. That is when it hit me, I had described Beka." Tyr sighed as he recalled the moment that changed his life forever.  
  
"So you broke with tradition once again and wooed her." Tamerlane surmised. "She accepted your suit?"  
  
"Not at first. She was very wary of my intentions. Eventually she agreed to visit our home to meet you. We used the flight training as a cover story, in case things did not work out."  
  
"And things didn't work out," said his son.  
  
"Oh, they worked out. Beka fell in love with you before she fell in love with me, but in the end she did love us both." Tyr held his son's gaze "It was politics that kept us apart all these years. Beka deserved to be my wife, not my mistress to be scorned and ostracized."  
  
"Father." Tyr responded to the urgency in his son's voice. "10 o'clock."  
  
Tyr turned his head a little to the left. The plain female was working her way through the throng toward their box. She was the picture of determination. Alpha watchers followed the gaze of their leader. Soon many eyes were trained on the woman, who continued to forge ahead. The arena fell silent when she reached the box. She stood at the rail waiting to be acknowledged.  
  
The Alpha rose and bowed. Tamerlane made a mental note to use the gesture when he was in charge. Tyr had lost of none of his authority, while gaining respect in the eyes of all that witnessed the kindness.  
  
"Goneril, out of Alicia, by Dante, of the newly restored Kodiak Pride." The recital of her lineage was accompanied by a deep curtsy.  
  
She held the obeisance until Tyr spoke, "Rise and speak, daughter."  
  
"My Lord Kodiak, I respectfully advise you as is our custom that I choose Tamerlane, out of Freya, by Tyr, of the Kodiak Pride, as my mate."  
  
Tamerlane blanched. What trouble had an innocent whim brought on the House of Anasazi? I am fifteen and untried. What possible advantage did she think there was to bind herself to me?  
  
The emotions that Tyr was experiencing swung from disbelief that she would be so bold as to claim the Alpha's son to admiration of her courage to act on her desire. Tyr turned for a glimpse of Tamerlane. There was fear in his eyes, but he had his facial muscles under control.  
  
"Goneril, you have honoured my house with your choice." Tyr stalled for time as his mind searched for a loophole that would save the face of the female, while releasing his son from a dangerous obligation." 


	15. Her Thing

"You did what?"  
  
She had dressed to seduce. A shot silk in every hue of blue, with a gold belt draped about her waist. She had painted her nails and rearranged her hair. Soft wisps of artfully arranged strays framed her face. She was delicious and she was angry. He set aside thoughts of losing himself in her most intimate places. He could be sleeping in a bunk in the barracks with the palace guards if he did not find a way to appease her.  
  
"Of all the testosterone driven idiocies in the universe, you had to let our fifteen-year old son enter a displaying competition?" She sputtered. "What were you thinking?" She slapped her forehead. "Tyr? What haven't you told me?"  
  
If he had doubts, they were quashed. With that one question, she had proved that she knew him better than any being in the universe. He was about to answer her, when they were interrupted by a whirlwind of youth.  
  
"Mother, did Dad tell you?" Tamerlane's gait was cocky, his countenance, joyous. His excitement blinded him to the chill in the air. "In the Progenitor's name, Mother, it was exciting. The crowd cheered. The females drooling over the arena fence. The air was thick with hormones." He plopped himself in the chair by the fireplace.  
  
"Are you hurt?" Beka flinched when the words fell from her mouth. I sound like somebody's mother. Arghh! I am somebody's mother. She placed her hands on her abdomen.  
  
Tyr jumped to her aid. "Get out of that chair, boy. Can't you see your mother is in distress?"  
  
Tamerlane pulled himself back into the moment. One look at Beka and he leaped from the chair. "I'm sorry, Mother. I'm so sorry. Please sit down."  
  
When her men were certain she was comfortable, Tamerlane fetched a stool for her feet and Tyr placed a pillow at her back. They backed away, to stand silently waiting for her bidding. She let them stew for a moment while she gathered her thoughts.  
  
"Are you mated?" She directed the question to Tamerlane, who reacted with shock.  
  
"Of course not," he knelt before her, "My life is way too complicated to mate right now."  
  
"Then what is she doing here?" She directed that question at Tyr.  
  
Her tone of voice finally registered with Tamerlane. Beka was not pleased with his decision. His decision, not a decision made for him by The Alpha. So he broke in before Tyr could speak.  
  
"She is here at my invitation."  
  
Tamerlane tossed his locs behind him. He stood tall, with his hands on his hips. That was when Beka noticed the incipient beard. The boy was becoming a man. She waited sure that he had more to say. She stole a glance at Tyr who appeared about to speak. She silenced him with a withering look.  
  
Tyr was seething. He was The Alpha. This was his bedroom. That was his son and his wife. Wife? The mother of his child, at least. Yet he was not permitted to speak. How dare they? Nearing combustion, he turned to his son and for the first time saw the man. Awkward and unpolished granted, but a man nonetheless. He turned his attention to Beka. With new eyes he saw tenderness and fear fighting for predominance. Learning to let go would be painful for them both. So he sheathed his anger and watched the exchange play out.  
  
'En route to the Academy, father explained how he had come to cherish in a mate qualities that are not sought after by Nietzscheans."  
  
Beka raised her eyebrow. Tyr was going to explain that one before he shared her bed again.  
  
"He did suggest that participating in the competition might be awkward, but he left the choice to me."  
  
Tamerlane grinned at his father with thanks. "Before we entered the arena, I had decided not to compete. But then when we sat down? Beka - the place was buzzing with excitement. The competitors were fellow cadets. Males I have bested in competitions at the Academy. And the females - Mother - every male in the room twitched in anticipation. Even me. The effect of that many ovulating females in one room was indescribable."  
  
Tyr began to examine an invisible spot on the carpet. Only years of control and an obsession with one human female had contained his biological response. His son must have been overwhelmed.  
  
"I get the picture. You followed your manhood into the ring."  
  
Tamerlane slightly deflated by her cynicism continued. "I won my match, Mother. Admittedly, it was close, but as I lay there waiting for the coup de grace, I heard Father's words in my ear, 'Never surrender.'"  
  
Beka smiled. Did he know that was his father's motto in battle and in bed?  
  
"He displayed the tenacity of a warrior and the tactics of a general." Tyr said with pride.  
  
"But you are just a boy." Exasperation coated the words of his mother.  
  
"That is what I counted on, Mother. What female would choose a fifteen year old boy, who had won only one competition in his life?" Tamerlane shook his head. "It is unheard of!"  
  
"Beka, you should have seen her. I admit that she reminded me of you, when we first met. Quaking with fear inside, all bravado on the outside. She held her head high, like the matriarch I expect she will become." Tyr chuckled at the memory of her audacity.  
  
"She is older than me, Mother." Tamerlane felt he should get that out in the open.  
  
"How much older?" Beka was beginning to suspect that the unexpected guest was an opportunist.  
  
"Ten years," whispered her son.  
  
"Where is the brazen hussy, now?" Tyr thought he could see the ice that surrounded each word.  
  
"Right here, my Lady."  
  
A family tableaux spread before Goneril. The Alpha's lady seated beside the fire, feet resting on the stool. The Alpha standing by her side, his arm stretched across the chair back. At her feet sat Tamerlane, the boy-man on whom she had set her hopes for the future. The Lady was angry. The Alpha stoic, his feelings buried deep inside. Tamerlane's face glowed with welcome. She gravitated to his charismatic warmth.  
  
When she reached his side, she curtsied to The Alpha, as was proper and then to his Lady, in hopes of disarming her. Her Chosen took her elbow to assist her rise, putting a protective arm around her waist. She thrilled at his touch, but tried to hide it from the boy and his parents. Too much too soon. She heard the words of her grandmother repeating in her head.  
  
"Mother, may I present Goneril, out of Alicia, by Dante, of the Kodiak Pride." Tamerlane took the hand of his guest and drew her toward the chair in which Beka sat.  
  
Tyr watched in amazement as Beka transformed into a Nietzschean mother right before his eyes.  
  
"Becoming the First Wife of an Alpha's son is every mother's dream for her daughter. But choosing a fifteen year old untried boy because the opportunity presented itself makes you appear rather needy, don't you think?" Beka said quietly.  
  
"Your son declined my offer." Goneril reminded her adversary.  
  
"Yet you are here." Beka countered.  
  
"At my invitation, Mother." Tamerlane reminded her.  
  
"If I am to work closely with Father, I will not be as available to Olma as I have been. Goneril has excellent DNA, but no connections. Her courage and imagination that she demonstrated this afternoon is worthy of the noblest of Nietzschean females. She needs a mentor, someone who can introduce her to all the right people. Someone who will teach her the role of a matriarch. Father thinks she is destined for the position. And I agree. Olma needs an interest. Goneril needs a mentor. I expect that at the end of the six months I have suggested she stays we will be celebrating her impregnation!"  
  
"Do you promise to not to seduce my son as long as you are living under our roof?"  
  
The mouths of Tyr and Tamerlane dropped open. Goneril showed no surprise at the request.  
  
"You have my word, my Lady, that I will not seduce your son, while I am under your roof."  
  
Beka felt she had made a bargain with the devil, a she-devil. 


	16. Sorting Things

"We are no closer to knowing who the traitor is." Beka followed the contours of his body with a finger.  
  
"We have a spy in Olma's camp." Tyr rolled onto his back to give her full access to his body. "You think Olma is behind the coup attempt?"  
  
"Yes," Beka replied, "She was in my quarters just after I wrote the note. My role in your life usurps her authority. She is no longer the First Female."  
  
"She has always been matriarch and will continue to be as long as I am Alpha." Tyr asserted.  
  
Beka ran a finger around his navel, causing him to twitch. "Unless we prove that she has been disloyal."  
  
"Of course." He grasped the bed linens in his hands, in an attempt to comply with Beka's request that he not return her caresses, yet.  
  
"Why do you believe you can trust Goneril?" Beka slowly trailed her finger from his navel to the waistband of his sleeping trousers.  
  
"With one soft-hearted gesture, Tamerlane has raised her above all other unmated females in the Pride." Tyr sighed with frustration. "She owes him and she owes The Alpha."  
  
"Still, Tyr." Beka had waited a long time for the right to be the aggressor in their intimate war. She was not ready to relinquish control just yet.  
  
To distract himself, he took inventory of his physical response to her touch. His heart was pounding steadily at a slightly accelerated rate. His abdominal muscles were tense, displaying their toned perfection. His pulse pounded in his ear. His mouth was dry. He was coiled tight, waiting impatiently for release. His manhood had begun to swell. She was keeping him on the edge, prolonging the anticipation. She was torturing him and he adored it.  
  
"You still believe Olma is not a threat to you?" Beka tugged at his waistband. Her finger and the silk of his trousers dragged across his skin. The combination of textures sent his blood pressure sky rocketing.  
  
"As I said, I believe she would do nothing to harm Tamerlane." Tyr swallowed. "And, right now, it is in the best interest of Tamerlane that I remain in power."  
  
His trousers and her hand rested at his most intimate hairline. She buried her face in his belly, taking his flesh between her teeth. He growled. She released him, soothing the area with her tongue. He sighed. At last, her hand found his desire. All thoughts of State were pushed away as pleasure became their only goal.  
  
  
  
"Get up Kodiak."  
  
Tyr raised his head reluctantly. The bedside clock read 09:00. He had shared his bed with her for less than 48 hours and his life was already topsy-turvy. He could not remember the last time he had slept until 09:00. Reluctantly he rolled over to confront her. All thoughts of combat scurried from his brain. Before him stood temptation, joy and desire. It was that moment that he fully understood that his independence had evaporated. Tyr Anasazi was mated - for life. The thought of letting her go caused his heart to restrict. He grabbed his chest and doubled over in pain.  
  
"Tyr?" Beka rushed the last few feet to his side. "Tyr, what is wrong?"  
  
"I'm fine," he lied gruffly. "I appear to have cut the circulation off. I must have slept on my arm too long."  
  
"Here, let me."  
  
Beka pulled him into a sitting position. The bedclothes fell from his body. She used his distress as an excuse to explore the muscles that covered his chest. Her exploration ending at his left biceps, which she began to massage.  
  
"Is that better?" Beka whispered.  
  
Tyr resisted the urge to drag her into bed with him. "Where have you been?"  
  
Beka appeared to have been up for hours. Her hair was coifed. She was dressed for the street. She had set a data pad down on the bedside table, when she rushed to his side. He picked it up.  
  
"This is a plan of the palace." He shivered as she touched a particularly sensitive spot.  
  
"I'll remember that for later," she said, caressing the spot a second time and getting the same reaction.  
  
'What have you been doing while I have been sleeping?" To cover his reawakening desire and the residual fear of losing her, he barked his question.  
  
"Olma accompanied me on a tour of the building. You and I need bigger quarters. Something with a nursery, a reception room, and a bedroom with closets for two."  
  
"How many thrones is this going to cost me?" He had decided to play the husband while he could.  
  
"Not nearly enough to make a dent in your credit line." She slapped his arm. "And I have decided that Tamerlane will move into this room. That way, Goneril can have his bedroom next to Olma's."  
  
"You could have consulted me." Tyr looked put out. It did him no good. Instead of soothing his ruffled feathers, she continued to describe her plans.  
  
"Oh yes, there is a large room that no one has used for years. We'll turn that into a classroom for the children."  
  
Tyr froze. Children? "What children?"  
  
Beka hugged him. "You don't know! Five of Seamus' wives gave birth last night. It seems Anna went into labour and four more followed her. He has five boys, after 24 tries. Isn't that perfect?"  
  
"Perfect? They are Harper's children, perfection is impossible." From the frown that appeared on her face, he deduced that he had misunderstood.  
  
"When our son is old enough to go to school he will have other little boys to keep him company. Harper's sons."  
  
"You are planning to stay longer than ten months?" Tyr held his breath.  
  
Beka paused to identify the tone of voice he used. Was that hope? "Tyr, I will not stay, but our son will. I know that I must make this planet my home base. For our son, the brother of the Reincarnation, this will be his permanent home. As he will be a target for kidnappers and extortionists. the only way I can keep him safe is to leave him here with you."  
  
Her announcement was torture for Tyr. That his son would grow up under his roof was joyful news. But that his mother would be an infrequent visitor, that was painful."  
  
"What of Harper's daughters? They should be attending school." Tyr covered his personal concern with concern for the children he thought of as nieces.  
  
"Harper has a study program devised for the older girls. Any younger ones can join the boys if their mothers approve. But you know Nietzschean social practices? They keep the genders separate when it comes to education."  
  
"How long will your changes take?" Tyr could not argue with her understanding of the situation.  
  
"A week tonight, we will be sleeping in our new bedroom." She grinned. "Mark it on your agenda. We will have a new bed to inaugurate. I will want your undivided attention."  
  
"Until then?" Tyr smiled seductively.  
  
"Until then, you are cut off." Beka kissed him. "We have a traitor to identify." 


	17. Harper's Thing

Tyr made his way down the hall to Harper's lab, dodging toddlers and racing youngsters. The laughter and the shouting made him want to put his hands over his ears. Every now and then an adult female would appear to ineffectually wag a finger or admonish a particularly rowdy group. It had been many years since Tyr had ventured into Harper's domain. He made a mental note not to attempt it again for a great many more.  
  
Harper's second wife appeared in a doorway for a brief moment. Tyr tried to hail her, but she disappeared as quickly as she had materialized. Tyr was pondering which door would lead to Harper's lab, when the second wife reappeared, this time minus the apron and the scarf that she had tied about her head.  
  
"My Lord, my husband did not tell me that we would have the honour of a visit today?"  
  
Tyr saw that she was flustered. Score another point for Beka. She had told him that he should call ahead to announce his imminent arrival. How did his slipstream pilot female learn the subtleties of domesticity in such a short time?  
  
"Lady Harper." Tyr called all Harper's wives by the same title, saving himself much embarrassment when they visited the palace in gaggles. How Harper kept them straight was a mystery to him.  
  
"I did not mean to inconvenience anyone, except Harper. I understand that the House of Harper has been blessed with more children."  
  
The second Lady Harper beamed with pride. "Yes Lord Kodiak. We have sons. Sons who will be terribly spoiled, I am sure. Their wives will come to regret they were raised in house with 24 older sisters." She continued to beam with joy, softening her dire prediction.  
  
"The future of your sons has brought me here."  
  
Tyr shudder as a five-year old female miniature of Harper ran into his leg, which she clung to like a limpet. Tyr reached down to pick her up, just as half a dozen older siblings arrived on the scene. He set the little girl on his shoulder. She started taunting her pursuers from the safety of her perch. Harper opened his lab door at that exact moment.  
  
"Tyr?"  
  
Harper was completely taken aback. What was The Kodiak Alpha doing standing like a tree in his hallway, surrounded by his little girls? How did Natalie acquire a seat on his shoulder? This was not good. The Kodiak Lord Engineer put two fingers in his mouth to produce a piercing whistle.  
  
First there was silence as all perpetrators of the chaos froze on the spot. Then they moved in unison, forming a line along the corridor. Natalie began to bounce on Tyr's shoulder, saying over and over, "Let me down, please. Let me down."  
  
When Tyr lowered her to the floor, she dashed off down the line, obviously searching for her place. Tyr noted that at odd intervals an adult female appeared. Each one taking an assigned spot. Then silence fell again.  
  
Harper shouted down the hall, "Dearest wives and daughters, we are honoured by the presence of The Alpha. Allow me to introduce you."  
  
Thirty minutes later, Tyr had been presented to every one of Harper's wives and daughters, with the exception of those recovering from childbirth and the babies in the nursery. With another whistle, chaos once again erupted.  
  
"How often have you practiced to get such an immediate response to your whistle? They are almost military in its precision." Tyr shook his head in disbelief. "I only use the whistle on very special occasions. Like when we can't find a child or for a fire drill. Or when The Kodiak pays an unexpected visit." Harper slapped his friend on the back. "Anna said we needed a system the first time we misplaced one of the children."  
  
Tyr peered at Harper. He was serious. "You found the child?"  
  
"Yes, she had fallen asleep in a closet while waiting for the seeker to find her during a game of hide and seek." Harper opened the door to his lab. "Haven't lost a child yet!"  
  
"The System?" Tyr prompted him.  
  
"Think Julie Andrews and Christopher Plummer." Harper registered Tyr's puzzlement. "Never mind."  
  
Tyr strode across the lab, while Harper played with the door locking mechanism. He joined his guest at the window when he was satisfied that no one would disturb them.  
  
"You've sound proofed this room." Tyr raised an eyebrow.  
  
"You heard the noise out there!" Harper offered no apologies. "I can turn on listening devices in the halls and bedrooms when I'm in the mood. Listen."  
  
Harper pushed a button on his data pad. The room was filled with the gurgles and snuffling of babies.  
  
"Are we listening to the nursery?" Tyr pointed through the glass at the rows of bassinets on display.  
  
"You ordered me to keep prying eyes out of the lab. That meant no window, so I had the nursery installed next door and put in a picture window." Harper pointed to one of his wives nursing a baby. "I love to watch them tend the babies, feeding them and playing with them. When they coo and snuffle, the sound is very soothing."  
  
"And when they start crying you turn the sound off?" Tyr finished for him.  
  
"Haven't I told you I'm a freaking genius?"  
  
Harper pressed the data pad cutting off the nursery sounds. With another tap he started the descent of a blind that cut off the view of the nursery.  
  
"You have a problem." Harper opened the conversational door for Tyr.  
  
"And I need your help."  
  
  
  
"Tamerlane?" Goneril called to him as he passed.  
  
"Has Olma found you suitable quarters?" He put his hands behind his back so that she could not see the nervous twitch they had developed in her presence.  
  
"Yes, thank you." She smiled demurely, adjusting the neckline of her blouse so that she was more modestly covered. "The Lady Kodiak has offered me your room." She paused, then gasped. "Once you have vacated it, of course." She blushed.  
  
Tamerlane swallowed hard. When she adjusted her bodice his attention was drawn to the ripeness of her curves. His palms flooded. Her blush took his thoughts further down the forbidden path. He chastised himself for thinking of her in such a base manner.  
  
She lowered her eyes so that he could not see the gleam of triumph as she witnessed his response. She knew he would interpret her action as one of modesty. Such a boy - so easily led by a woman's whim. She dropped a quick curtsy, then turned to leave. She knew he was watching so she moved slowly and deliberately, so the hem of her garment swung seductively. When she stepped through the doorway, she paused turned and looked over her shoulder. She lingered with a small smile playing at the corner of her mouth. Then she disappeared from view.  
  
When she was certain he could no longer see her, she fell into a chair, her hand at her throat. Her heart was pounding and her stomach roiled with anxiety. Had she overplayed her hand? Just how innocent was the boy? Only time would tell. She readjusted the neckline. Tonight she was dining with a prime candidate from Olma's stable of eligible males. Goneril planned to enjoy herself. 


	18. The Thing

The Command Officers of the Kodiak defense force gathered in the Council Chambers. Their well-ordered routine had evaporated when The Kodiak recaptured his desire to procreate. With the new development came the thanks of a portion of his officers that their Commander had corralled his manhood for a decade. They took his current behaviour as proof that the High Council had been wise to deny The Kodiak his desire a decade ago. A few, inspired by his example, had spent the time between meetings impregnating their wives. Just as Beka had predicted, in nine months there was going to be a baby boom amongst the palace staff. Some of the bachelors who had modeled their lives on his broke their self-imposed celibacy and had accepted offers to mate from females who had been pursuing them.  
  
Tyr recognized the signs. The newly mated men were distant and bleary-eyed. They played with the shiny helixes on their arms, a little unsure of themselves and their new status. Those with successful impregnations recently behind them were puffed with pride and grinning broadly, relaxed in their seats. The discontented that believed he had gone mad with lust were morose and would not look him in the eye.  
  
These were his most trusted men. They had supported his climb to the position of Alpha. They had shared battles on the field and in the diplomatic arena for ten years. The thought that even one of them would betray him was difficult to face. So he turned his attention to Tamerlane, sitting at the opposite end of the table. The mind of the boy had drifted, ignoring the interplay around him. Tyr sighed with regret. Entering that displaying competition had acted like a slipstream drive on his son's hormones.  
  
Why did the Progenitor make their drive to procreate so powerful that in its first stages a male would risk his own survival to satisfy the urge? He put aside his blasphemous thought and called the meeting to order by dropping his fist on the table. Tamerlane jumped. The others looked puzzled. The Kodiak continued his uncharacteristic behaviour.  
  
  
  
"Honey, I'm home."  
  
Beka recognized that voice. It couldn't be? She turned slowly, holding her breath. When her eyes confirmed the truth of her hearing, a smile as wide as the galaxy crossed her face.  
  
"So it is true. You are pregnant." Dylan hugged his First Officer. "Tyr should be congratulated - that was one of longest campaigns in history."  
  
He held Beka at arm's length. "You look ravishing."  
  
"Ravished actually. Seems to be an important part of the process according to Tyr." Beka hugged him again. "What brings the Admiral of the Fleet to the Kodiak fast hold?"  
  
"Still painfully direct, I see." Dylan winced. "Would you believe I was in the neighbourhood and decided to drop in?"  
  
"I wouldn't. Tyr wouldn't and Harper wouldn't." Beka tilted her head. "But if you want the rest of the Pride to believe it, we'll make an announcement."  
  
"Perhaps you should," was Dylan's cryptic reply?  
  
"Dylan!" Harper dashed across the empty room to pound his former Captain on the back.  
  
"Lord Engineer." Dylan put his arm around the shoulders of the smaller man. "Tell me I am not hallucinating." He nodded toward Beka.  
  
"You are not hallucinating." Harper turned around. "Let me introduce you to Lady Kodiak, mate of The Kodiak and mother to be of his second son. As well as interior decorator and stepmother extraordinaire."  
  
"Interior decorator?" Dylan's eyes widened.  
  
"I'll explain later." The three old friends huddled in the middle of the empty room. Heads bowed and voices lowered. "Why are you here?"  
  
"Yes, Admiral Hunt," The Kodiak entered the room. "Why are you here?"  
  
Tamerlane watched the interplay between his father and the Admiral of the Commonwealth Fleet. From his father's tone of voice it was hard to determine if they were friends or enemies.  
  
  
  
Tyr had his arm at Beka's elbow as he steered her threw the chaos that was Harper's central corridor. Dylan kept pace beside Harper as children ebbed and flowed around them. Every now and then, Harper would reach out to tousle a head as it passed. Each time he addressed the victim by name. Trailing behind them was Tamerlane who was comparing this madhouse to the carefully controlled world of his childhood.  
  
"Lady Harper, you know my Lady Kodiak."  
  
Harper's second wife had appeared in the same doorway in which Tyr had found her earlier in the day. Harper had obviously called ahead. She had dressed to meet The Kodiak and his Lady. Harper left Dylan's side to stand beside his wife.  
  
"Yes, my Lord. I have had the pleasure of making your Lady's acquaintance." She nodded her head, then turned to search Harper's face for support.  
  
"Beatrice," Harper tucked her hand under his arm. "Thank you."  
  
Beka stepped forward, "Yes, we are indebted to you. I am sorry that we cannot invite you to join us. I promise that you and your household will soon be our guests for dinner."  
  
"Seamus is a thoughtful husband. He would not have asked if it were not necessary."  
  
Three eyebrows raised. Harper a thoughtful husband? His former crewmates did their best to hide their disbelief.  
  
Once inside the lab, they seated themselves around the table that had been set for a cold supper. Harper used a remote device to lock and seal the doors and blinds. He turned off the monitoring system. To the best of his engineering ability the room was completely secure.  
  
"Someone is claiming to be the Reincarnation of Drago Museveni." 


	19. Questioning Things

"Who is claiming to be the Reincarnation?" Tyr whispered his question.  
  
His companions knew him well. The more control he displayed the more dangerous he was. Harper chewed his lower lip. Tamerlane shrunk inside his clothes. Dylan straightened in his chair as if he were preparing to defend himself. Beka held her breath and cradled her abdomen.  
  
"The Sabra-Jaguar Pride asked the Commonwealth Triumvirate to act impartially on behalf of all the signatories. They want the Dragons to open the Progenitor's mausoleum so a DNA sample can be taken to prove the claim." Dylan held the gaze of The Kodiak.  
  
"What's the big deal. The DNA test will prove the pretender is false." Harper shrugged.  
  
Beka's mouth formed the shape of an O, then she spoke, "The Dragons don't have the Progenitors remains, do they?"  
  
Beka had found the last piece of an unsolved fifteen-year old puzzle. Tyr had entrusted her with the knowledge of Tamerlane's heritage, but he had not trusted her with the whole truth. A dry wretch wracked her body. She doubled over as tears streamed from her eyes. Damn the hormones. Damn Tyr. Damn happiness - a girl couldn't count on it lasting.  
  
Distraught by her reaction to the news, Tyr dashed to her side. Tamerlane put a restraining hand on Harper's shoulder. Dylan waited, guilt turning his face crimson as he watched the Lady Kodiak crack an open palm across the face of the Supreme Alpha of Kodiak Pride.  
  
Tamerlane drew a sharp breath. The action of his stepmother was punishable by death if The Kodiak chose to exercise his authority. Although the boy believed his father would not survive the loss of his lady - he would die of a broken heart - Tamerlane was not as certain that Tyr would ignore the insult to his position.  
  
Having recovered his composure, the Admiral of the Commonwealth fleet tried to diffuse the situation.  
  
"Beka," he knelt at her side, holding her shoulders in his hands so that she would look him in the eye. "Tyr didn't tell you, because I wouldn't let him. I threatened to destroy the contents if Tyr revealed to anyone what is sealed in Cargo Bay 15."  
  
Harper stood, raised one knee waist high then slapped it. "Cargo Bay 15."  
  
The wild look of panic in Beka's eyes was replaced by cold anger. "You have been holding that box like a gun to his head for fifteen years, haven't you?" She turned to Tyr. "And you let him!" She turned to Harper. "Did you know about this?"  
  
Harper backed far enough away to be out of range of Beka's palm, "You heard Dylan. He told Tyr to not tell anyone. I didn't know!"  
  
Beka turned her icy fury on Tamerlane. His gender was enough to make her angry, until she realized that the boy was truly puzzled. "Your father never told you."  
  
Struck dumb by her fury, the boy merely shook his head. Then turned to his father, a plea for understanding in his eyes.  
  
"Before I knew your mother had given birth to you, I liberated the Progenitor's remains from the Drago-Katsov. Shortly after retrieving my property, Dylan confiscated it. As one of Andromeda's cargo bays was the safest place for them until I had re-established the Kodiak Pride, I did nothing. After the death of your mother I used a lock of your hair and a lock of the Progenitor's hair to do a DNA comparison. When the result proved positive, I decided to leave the remains in Dylan's care until it was time for you to take your rightful place. It was my intention to repatriate the remains at the same time as you were acknowledged as the Reincarnation." Tyr had encapsulated fifteen years of their lives in a few sentences.  
  
Tamerlane sighed, "It is possible then that my secret is still safe, but that our unknown plotters want to force the Dragons to disclose their deception."  
  
"Or someone wants to force me to disclose my deception." Dylan suggested.  
  
Tyr saw an all-inclusive possibility, "Or someone wants to force me to disclose Tamerlane's heritage and my role in the repatriation of the remains."  
  
"No matter which scenario we pick." Beka slapped Tyr on the forearm. "Nietzschean Civil War is declared." 


	20. Desirable Things

The chill that had descended on the palace kept Tamerlane in his room for two days. While he hid from the frayed tempers and cutting glances of his parents, he packed his personal things in preparation for the move. From time to time he turned inward to think. Eventually he would return to his packing no nearer to understanding how he had become the epicenter of an intergalactic civil war.  
  
  
  
Goneril floated down the corridor in a diaphanous gown that turned the head of every guard she passed. Their nostrils twitched in her wake of pheromones and freesias. Her self-induced arousal put a swing into her hips that evoked growls of lust from the sentries. She hoped that the effect was not lost on the boy.  
  
  
  
"Who is it?" His question was deliberately gruff and unwelcoming.  
  
The knock was repeated.  
  
"Who is it?" He put the book that he had been holding back on the shelf.  
  
When the knocking started again he was genuinely angry. He stomped across the room to fling the door open, a scowl etched on his face. "What the.?"  
  
He revealed Goneril frozen in an attitude of knocking. Before his brain could identify his visitor he was assaulted by her scent, a combination of unfulfilled lust and flowers. His groin tightened. The morning sun streamed through a window behind her, back-lighting her hair that billowed about her head. The sun cast her body into silhouette, which was etched on his brain. She wore no undergarments to restrain her generous curves. His breathing became shallow and his manhood hijacked his brain.  
  
  
  
"You said that I could measure the room for curtains and bedding?" She asked lowering her eyes demurely.  
  
Tamerlane chagrined by the innocence that she displayed tried to dampen the lust that was overwhelming him. "Of course, come in."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
She brushed by him, a breast rubbing deliciously against his outstretched arm. He swallowed, but the lump in his throat refused to move. He lingered by the door to watch her unfettered backside sway and bounce as she walked to the centre of the room.  
  
His leaden feet refused to move, so he leaned against the door, which snapped shut, throwing him off balance. He landed spread-eagled on the floor. Goneril leaned down, cooing her worry. The bodice of her dress fell forward revealing her breasts for a nanosecond.  
  
"I'm fine Goneril. Just a moment of clumsiness." He pushed his forehead against the rug and tried to stifle a moan. If he stood, she would see the evidence of his interest. He wanted to spare her the embarrassment.  
  
"Tamerlane," she kneeled at his side, her hand resting gently on the hollow of his back. "Are you sure you are all right? I could call Olma."  
  
The boy breathed deeply of her scent, "No, that isn't necessary. Why don't you begin measuring? I will help you in a moment or two."  
  
With a light, innocently sensuous touch, she withdrew her hand. She rose, her skirt billowing out to flutter down over him for a brief moment. By all the ancestors, he wanted nothing more than to capture her hem so that he could pull her down beside him and bury his face between her legs.  
  
  
  
In the courtyard outside the council chamber on a bench in the sun sat Tyr Anasazi and Dylan Hunt.  
  
"Why do I still feel cold, with the sun on my face?" Dylan made a hand into a visor and looked skyward.  
  
"Beka's anger has cast a chill over everything, which has been heightened by the threat of war." Tyr replied. "You are a lucky man."  
  
Dylan turned to stare at Tyr. "A lucky man?"  
  
"No wife, no children. No hostages to fortune to make you fear battle." Tyr paused for a moment. "It is not too late for immortality. I am sure I could find you a fertile female to accept your genetic material."  
  
Dylan grinned. "Andromeda would self-destruct if I accepted your offer, as generous as it is."  
  
"Does the Admiralty know?" Tyr raised an eyebrow.  
  
"What is there to know? As Admiral I am no longer in charge of the ship. I have a faithful captain to whom Andromeda is loyal. Her avatar has the status of Admiral's aide de camp."  
  
"How very - convenient." Tyr chose his word carefully. "But she cannot bear you children."  
  
"It is her only regret." Dylan frowned.  
  
"Not yours?" Tyr was genuinely interested.  
  
"No, not yet." Dylan stood. "Let's walk." 


	21. Controlling Things

Goneril stretched to retrieve a candlestick that she knew was just beyond her reach. The action hiked her skirt and pushed her breasts tight against her bodice. She let her head fall back, as if she were trying to see what she could not reach. Her hair slid sensuously down her back. She calculated that last gesture would cause Tamerlane to salivate if he was watching her as closely as she expected.  
  
The aroma of an aroused male assaulted her nostrils. She bit the inside of her cheeks to keep a smile from escaping.  
  
Tamerlane copied the stance of the female, with one slight adjustment. He put his right arm around her waist to steady her. His left reached for the object, brushing her arm casually as it stretched upward. The Reincarnation was overcome by restlessness. He adjusted his stance, spreading his legs so that his feet were planted on either side of her. He surrounded her. Light could not pass between her bottom and his pelvis. The heat generated by their proximity chased the chill from the air.  
  
She lowered her arm first, bending it so that her elbow brushed his ribcage. She twisted slightly, causing her buttocks to brush across the front of his leathers. Her head swung toward him. All it would take was a minute move to the right and he would be in a position to devour her earlobe. Instead he brought the candlestick down in an arc that captured her.  
  
She leaned back, pressing her body against his. He tightened his grip on her waist, then pushed his pelvis into the soft muscle of her backside.  
  
His lips lingered on her ear, while he whispered, "Let me help you?"  
  
The boy was not talking about the candlestick of that she was certain.  
  
  
  
"Why didn't we tell Beka about the content of Cargo Bay 15?" Dylan asked Tyr as they strolled through the walled garden.  
  
"In the beginning? Control." Tyr grinned wryly.  
  
"In the end?" Dylan stopped, causing Tyr to halt and turn.  
  
"Control." Tyr said shaking his head at their folly.  
  
"An illusion, wasn't it?" The Admiral cocked his head and waited for The Kodiak to speak.  
  
"Rommie had more control than any of us. She knew our secrets, our desires, everything." Tyr placed one hand on each of the Admiral's shoulders. "The only thing she couldn't control was her desire for you."  
  
"Was it that obvious?" Dylan asked.  
  
"You knew too. You controlled the situation by not acknowledging the existence of her desire." Tyr released his companion.  
  
"Which is what we did to Beka." Vision was perfect with hindsight.  
  
"Our current situation is about control." Tyr noted.  
  
"So all we have to do is figure out who appears most oblivious to the current climate." Dylan eye's sparkled as he scented his quarry's trail.  
  
"Exactly." It was just like old times. Goneril took the candlestick from his hand and placed it on a lower shelf. To reach the shelf she had to stretch forward once again. Tamerlane responded to her shifted centre of gravity, by moving his hands up to cup her breasts. As her nipples hardened at his touch, she pressed her backside into his groin.  
  
When the candlestick was safely stowed, he pulled her back against him, stilling hold her breasts. His mouth returned to her ear.  
  
"Some cadets have told me that the females in your family," Tamerlane released a breast so that he could draw her skirt up to her waist. "Insist that displaying males prove their ability to satisfy. Is that true?"  
  
Her answer was to shift her stance, granting him access to her arousal.  
  
The growl that escaped from the boy was a mix of triumph and fear. The couple was cemented to the spot. Still facing the shelves, their backs to the door. No daylight came between them. They were fully clothed. The scent of their arousal stripped the scene of its innocence.  
  
His left hand continued to caress a breast. His right stroked her womanhood. He rested his chin on her right shoulder, his lips against her ear. She kept time to his stroke by rubbing her buttocks against his groin. Their hearts pounded in unison.  
  
"Your scabbard weeps with desire, as my sword cuts the air with longing." Tamerlane recited the first line of an erotic poem. "Our tongues thrust and parry, in a battle of joining."  
  
Goneril cried out with release, collapsing against the boy.  
  
Slowly they sank to the floor. He carefully cradled her in his arms, pumped with endorphins, stifling a need to howl.  
  
"Tamerlane. Take a cold shower."  
  
The boy froze, adrenaline overriding the endorphins. He released Goneril and jumped to his feet. He refused to look at his stepmother, as he did her bidding.  
  
Beka turned her attention to Goneril.  
  
"You betrayed my trust." 


	22. Complicating Things

"He is beautiful, Anna." Harper, holding his son, gazed into the eyes of his wife.  
  
The trio was entangled in her bed. Anna had learned early in their marriage that Harper needed body contact to feel secure in a relationship. To hasten the bonding with his son, she had asked Harper to attend the midnight feeding. With the baby sated, she rested, while Harper counted toes and nuzzled the forehead of the baby. She had woven her legs through the legs of her husband and had placed her hand at the juncture of his hip and thigh. The warmth of her touch radiated, drawing out his hyperactivity like a poultice draws poison. The dim lighting added to the illusion of intimacy.  
  
"What shall we call him, husband?"  
  
Another Harper family ritual that began with the birth of their first child was the naming of his children. Harper had sole responsibility. His wives had one veto, but the choice was ultimately his. It had become tradition for Anna, at the end of an interview with a prospective mate, to explain the cultural oddities of life with Harper. A couple of applicants had withdrawn their offers as a result. Harper did not know.  
  
"Sun Tzu."  
  
The name sounded like sneezing to Anna.  
  
"Sun Tzu Anasazi Harper." Seamus made a face as the syllables fell from his tongue. "Rather a mouthful, but all the boys will have the middle name Anasazi, so the first name has to be that of a warrior."  
  
Anna blinked. "All the boys will bear The Kodiak's family name?"  
  
"Yeah," Harper ran his finger down the bridge of the boy's nose. "They will be raised and schooled with Tyr's second son, to form an elite military unit that serves the Reincarnation. It seemed fitting that the six of them carried the name."  
  
"My son will be one of the Reincarnation's personal guard?" Anna removed the baby from the arms of his father. "Have you told the others?"  
  
"No, and I won't. Nor will you." There was an edge to his voice. "Tyr gave me permission to tell you, because he understands how I rely on your common sense and discretion."  
  
Although Anna took the remark as a compliment as it was intended, she did not stifle the sigh that welled up. She hugged the baby tightly. Her son was going to be raised as a warrior, an honoured warrior, privy to state secrets and intrigue. His sisters would be prized as wives with access to the finest males. She would have fine grandchildren to cuddle and spoil. She and all the generations that followed her had been raised from obscurity when she chose the little engineer. They would write legends about the mother of Sun Tzu, out of Anna, by Seamus.  
  
"You aren't pleased?"  
  
Harper had been married long enough to recognize the signs of wifely discontent, but not long enough to interpret them.  
  
"Why wouldn't I be pleased? My son is honoured and my husband respects me enough to include me in his secrets." She looked at her husband through her lashes.  
  
"Help me here, Baby." Harper turned on the bed to face her, carefully disentangling himself. "There's a subtext I'm missing."  
  
"The daughters of Freyer wish you to impregnate them."  
  
Harper could not understand what the desires of his three most recent wives had to do with this conversation. He reined in his impatience. Anna never took the direct route, when a circuitous route was available.  
  
"I've tried Anna."  
  
The first mating with the sisters had occurred individually, but consecutively. The women returned him to the First Wife battered and bruised - their wombs devoid of children. The experience had made him reluctant to return to their beds.  
  
"I've explained that they must let you prepare their bodies for mating. That they must learn the way of Harper if they want to bear his children." She put her hand on his cheek. "I had some of the others confirm that your way is very pleasurable."  
  
Harper accepted her praise as due. Acquiring wives in the Kodiak culture was easy, keeping them was harder and Harper kept thirty-one. He no longer bragged of his prowess as he had done in his youth. The size of his family was all the validation he needed.  
  
"I also told them not to take offense should you call out the name Trance Gemini on completion of your duty."  
  
There! The subtext! Was it his fault that his heart belonged to Trance? He did not ask to fall in love with her. He honoured his wives. He respected them. He had great affection for them. Trance and he had never been intimate, before or after his marriages. She would not allow it, even though he had communicated the depths of his feelings for her. Anna learned of his secret when they mated for the first time. He hadn't even realized he had called out her name, until Anna began to cry. More often than not, at the culmination of intimate moments with his wives, when all rationale thought was stripped away, the truth would accompany release.  
  
"Anna, you chose me, Trance didn't." Seamus kissed her gently. "Accepting your offer was the smartest, absolutely most genius thing I have ever done."  
  
Anna watched as he left the room. "But you didn't say you loved me, Seamus."  
  
  
  
Tamerlane found his courtesy uncle hiding in his laboratory much later that day.  
  
"Uncle Seamus, you look as if you haven't slept in twenty-four hours."  
  
Tamerlane noted the blood shot eyes and the shaking hands that held a cup of coffee.  
  
"I haven't." Harper yawned.  
  
"Has Dad got you working on something?" Tamerlane sat on a stool beside Harper. "I could ask him to ease up on you."  
  
"No my condition is not your father's fault." Harper considered for a brief moment then told the boy the truth. "Three of my wives demanded that I fulfill my conjugal duties last night."  
  
"Are congratulations in order?" Tamerlane grinned.  
  
"I just received confirmation. All three are pregnant." Harper grinned. "Tamerlane, there is a lot to be said for polygamy. But what no one tells you is how much like hard work it can be!"  
  
"Why do you live the Nietzschean way?"  
  
"More of an accident than a plan on my part." Harper listened to himself and grinned. That statement covered his entire life. "Do you really want to know?"  
  
"I need to understand the consequences should I choose polygamy. Who better than a man with thirty-one wives to provide perspective?"  
  
"Thinking of mating are you?"  
  
Harper grinned as shock scrambled across the face of the Reincarnation. Bull's eye. I bet he hasn't told Tyr. 


	23. Mating Things

"House arrest?" Tyr was dumbfounded.  
  
Olma spluttered in exasperation, "You are The Kodiak. Do something."  
  
"And I am The Lady Kodiak. It is my duty to monitor, mentor and discipline the females under the protection of my husband." Beka released each word like a projectile from a Gauss rifle.  
  
Tyr waited. If he intervened now he would undermine her fragile authority. She had been within her rights and Olma knew it.  
  
"Matriarch." Beka refrained from reaching for Tyr for physical support. This was a battle she had to win on her own. "Goneril is under house arrest, forbidden to see or speak to anyone, until I have exacted retribution for her traitorous behaviour."  
  
Olma blanched at the choice of words.  
  
"Return to your quarters, Matriarch." A sentry opened the door at a signal from Beka. "I will punish to the full extent of the law anyone proven to be working in concert with her."  
  
Olma left the room, followed closely by the sentry, who pulled the door closed, leaving the couple alone in the reception area of their new apartments.  
  
Tyr engulfed Beka in a hug. Her body shook in relief as the tension seeped away. She rested her head on his shoulder, letting hot tears stain his leather vest. He kissed the top of her head, before running his hands up and down her spine.  
  
In a matter of seconds the gesture of comfort turned to one of arousal. His hands cupped her buttocks and pulled her pelvis tight against his groin. She stretched sensuously, pressing against him wherever they came in contact.  
  
"Has the cold war come to an end, Beka?"  
  
"Between us, yes," she replied nibbling at the corner of his mouth. "But not against those who usurp the birthright of our son."  
  
  
  
"Anna is ten years older than I am." Seamus watched the face of his nephew. "Did you know that?"  
  
Harper congratulated himself. So Goneril was the inspiration for the question about polygamy. The look of surprise, then identification that crossed the face of the boy confirmed his suspicion.  
  
"She had been saving herself, she told me the day we met, for a man of power and prestige." Seamus grinned. "Turns out her ambition outstripped her credentials. Great DNA, no connections."  
  
Tamerlane's eye widened in surprise at the similarity to Goneril's situation.  
  
"My smart and wily wife made an inventory of available males who were trusted confidants of The Kodiak." Harper's grin broadened. "The list was short."  
  
"There were only two names on the list, isn't that right, Uncle Seamus?" Tamerlane waited for his answer.  
  
'That's right, your Reincarnationness." Harper looked around to ensure they were not being overheard. "Dylan Hunt and Seamus Harper."  
  
Tamerlane got a far away look in his eye as he imagined Anna reviewing the pros and cons of choosing one of them as a mate.  
  
"She chose you, because you had the most to gain by her offer?"  
  
"You're correct. I had the most to gain, but I didn't know that at the time." Seamus lowered his voice. "She chose me, because she thought I was the easiest mark."  
  
In response to the look of shock on the boy's face, Harper continued, "That's all right. She told me the truth right from the beginning. It wasn't romantic, but Nietzschean breeding practices aren't, are they?"  
  
Tamerlane considered his brief interlude with Goneril. Harper was right. They had shared a moment of unadulterated lust. Tamerlane nodded in agreement with his uncle.  
  
"I had a roving eye, boy."  
  
His use of the past tense, startled Tamerlane.  
  
"I see my reputation precedes me." Harper did not appear offended. "She had done her homework, my smart and wily wife. She offered me my libido's desire, a warm and willing female in my bed whenever I wanted. No more rejection ever again. And she guaranteed me variety. She offered to find me an entire chocolate box of wives. All flavours, sizes, and tastes."  
  
"Lady Harper, doesn't appear to be so calculating." Tamerlane said caught between disgust and admiration.  
  
"She is no more calculating than any Nietzschean female on a breeding mission." Seamus hoped the lad understood the implication of his remark.  
  
"I wasn't supposed to keep the extra wives. Did you know that?"  
  
Tamerlane shook his head no.  
  
"Anna explained that the other matings were to be political. Spreading the Harper genius around the Prides. I would be helping cement relationships for your Father, while I got the variety that she knew a rogue like me needed." For a moment he was wistful. "She called it the slam, bam, thank you ma'am mating policy."  
  
"So how did you end up with 31 wives and 29 children all living under the same roof?"  
  
"Forgive my immodesty, Tamerlane, but my females found that I am a genius in bed as well as out." Harper smirked.  
  
  
  
Her heart rate had begun to slow. Her breasts, more sensitive than usual due to the hormones raging through her body, softened. She licked her swollen lips, savouring the taste of him. She sighed.  
  
"You are pleased?" Tyr stroked her hair from her forehead.  
  
"Yes, I am pleased." Her eyes were heavy with fatigue. "Trance warned me that a side effect of pregnancy is an insatiable appetite for sex."  
  
"A human response." Tyr pulled her to him. "One for which I curse the Progenitor, on behalf of all Nietzschean males, for removing from the gene pool." 


	24. Goneril's Thing

"You are making a very strong case for polygamy, Uncle."  
  
Tamlerane had accompanied Harper on a tour of his quarters. Harper would stop every now and then to chat with a mate or play with his children, giving Tamerlane time to observe and ask questions. Tyr had entrusted him to enlighten the lad so that the boy was properly prepared for the future. Seamus was honoured by the trust placed in him by The Kodiak. He would not let Tyr down.  
  
"You are wondering how I can afford to take care of them all, aren't you?"  
  
Harper assumed Tamerlane was too polite to ask, so he opened the door for the boy. Tamerlane nodded, relieved that Harper was willing to divulge his secret.  
  
"I can't." Harper saw the disbelief on the face of his acolyte. "Don't get me wrong, your father has always paid me handsomely. But there isn't a civil servant anywhere on this planet who makes enough to support a family the size of mine."  
  
"So what's your secret?" Tamerlane joked.  
  
"Not mine - Anna's. I don't accept mating offers without Anna's approval. She doesn't give her approval unless the interested female antis up a sizable dowry, which Anna invests. The dividends keep us clothed and fed. My DNA has appreciated considerably over the past decade. Anna has seen to it."  
  
Tamerlane shook his head in disbelief.  
  
"You should talk to Anna about it. As the Reincarnation, you will be able to demand a fortune from the female's who want you to father their children." Harper paused. "Heed the yellow light of caution, Tamerlane. Some of the smaller Prides might bankrupt themselves in order to add your DNA to their gene pool."  
  
  
  
"Did you play the bad High guard officer or the good High guard officer when you interrogated Goneril?"  
  
Tyr slid his arms into the shoulder holster. He was standing in front of a full-length mirror as he put the finishing touches to his attire. He watched the reflection of Beka as she lay wantonly on the bed. She was entangled in the sheets, one puckered breast exposed. Her legs were splayed with a cascade of bedding spilled between her thighs. She had one arm under her head. Her free hand traced circles on the bedspread, where Tyr had lain.  
  
Beka looked slightly chagrined. "I was agitated." She gazed at Tyr's reflection. "I might have pointed my forcelance at her."  
  
"I see." Tyr suppressed a grin. "Did she bleed?"  
  
"Tyr, how could you?" Beka smirked. "I admit I was tempted. You might want to watch for bruising though."  
  
"Anything else I should know?" Tyr turned his back to the mirror.  
  
"Tamerlane may be inexperienced, but he has demonstrated a talent for pleasuring females." Beka waited for his reaction. It wasn't long in coming.  
  
Tyr grabbed the bedclothes in his hand and yanked them on to the floor, revealing Beka's nakedness. To steady himself, he placed one knee on the foot of the bed, then leaned down to caress her lower lips with his mouth. She writhed under his protracted caress. He lifted his head long enough to say, "Naturally."  
  
  
  
"My Lord Kodiak." Goneril stepped aside to allow Tyr to enter the room. "I am honoured that you would visit me. Under the circumstances, I do not deserve your attention."  
  
The woman tried to conceal her terror, but Tyr could hear her rapid heart beat. Her scent assaulted his nose with the astringent stench of fear, underscored by the aroma of a female in heat.  
  
"So you don't deny that you broke your promise to The Lady Kodiak?" Tyr watched her eyes for a hint of prevarication.  
  
"I will not compound my transgression with a lie, my Lord." Goneril lowered her eyes in submission.  
  
"I spoke to your family matriarch." Tyr announced.  
  
Goneril gasped. Her heart raced in response.  
  
"I did not tell her of your dishonour." Tyr laid the foundation for his role of champion. "She confirmed that in your family that displaying males are expected to prove their ability to satisfy a female, before an offer of mating is made."  
  
Goneril kept her eyes lowered.  
  
"What you failed to tell my son was that only males who had declared publicly their intention to display for specific females were entitled to take liberties. And only with the female identified in their declaration." Tyr waited for her to confirm her omission.  
  
Goneril looked into his face. He had discovered her omission, but had he uncovered her secret?  
  
There! For just a second, the eyes of the female shifted. She was hiding something. What was it?  
  
"Did you deliberately mislead my son?" Tyr pressed her.  
  
"Yes, my Lord." Goneril lowered her eyes once again. "I failed to clarify the circumstances when he mentioned the subject."  
  
"What is so compelling about an untried boy of fifteen?"  
  
Goneril was thrown by his question. She raised her head to search his face for the motivation behind his enquiry. The stoic face of The Kodiak revealed nothing.  
  
Tyr stepped forward into her social space. She held her ground, however her nose twitched involuntarily. He slid a forefinger down her cheek.  
  
"Olma has introduced you to any number of males with considerably more experience than my son. Some already have fathered children. You could be pregnant by now had you chosen any one of them. Explain yourself, woman."  
  
Goneril stepped back. Tyr followed her. She stepped back again. He followed her. Clearly, The Kodiak would not let this rest until she answered him. At least he was not holding a forcelance to her head.  
  
"Apart from the obvious, my Lord?" Goneril stalled for time.  
  
Tyr recognized the ploy and called her bluff, "Start with the obvious, please."  
  
"He is a potential Alpha. As your son, he will more than likely become The Kodiak. He is young enough that a first wife could strongly influence his development. She would, of course, play a role in his future matings.' Goneril stopped.  
  
"So you are ambitious and saw an irresistible opportunity to achieve those ambitions?" Tyr was certain she had left something out.  
  
"Yes, my Lord."  
  
Goneril's hope that she had satisfied The Kodiak was dashed, when he asked, "Why then could you not wait six months. My wife made it clear that if you kept her trust at the end of six months we would reconsider your request."  
  
"He has a way about him, my Lord." Goneril smiled shyly. "He was curious and so was I."  
  
"You are ten years older than the boy." Tyr stated coldly. "You are the second daughter of an Alpha. You are a Kodiak female. You failed in your duty to my son, your self and your Pride."  
  
The female flinched with embarrassment. Tyr concluded that she had deliberately seduced the boy. What was she up to? 


	25. Revealing Things

"What have you to say for yourself?" Tyr lowered his voice, almost whispering the question to the trembling woman.  
  
"I had intended to keep my promise to your wife." Goneril whispered in return. "You must believe that, my Lord."  
  
"Why must I believe that?" Tyr used his index finger to raise the woman's head so he could gaze into her eyes.  
  
"Because I am ambitious beyond my station. It was mere luck that he attended that displaying competition with you. I would not wittingly undermine such an opportunity." She returned his gaze forthrightly.  
  
"Then why did you do it?" Tyr barely contained his exasperation.  
  
"Two of my sisters are being held hostage. The kidnappers said that the only way they would be released unharmed is if I seduced Tamerlane before the full moon."  
  
"Your matriarch did not mention the situation to me." Tyr growled.  
  
"She doesn't know. The girls were on their way to stay with me here in the palace, when their shuttle was hijacked."  
  
Now that her secret was out, her eyes overflowed with tears. She began to tremble and gasp for breath. Her knees buckled, but Tyr caught her before she hit the floor.  
  
"The kidnappers said that if I told anyone the girls would die." Goneril began to hiccough.  
  
  
  
"Harper."  
  
Seamus noted that Tamerlane called him by his last name for the first time. The boy was becoming a man. He tilted his head and waited.  
  
Tamerlane twirled, his arm outstretched, "So this is nothing more than regular sex and DNA trading?" His gesture took in the chaos that surrounded them.  
  
In the corner six little girls played hopscotch. Two of his wives folded laundry, chatting all the while on a bench near a fountain that babbled. Dogs barked, chased be shrieking children. Babes suckled at their mothers' breasts, while the women gossiped. Two children had attached themselves to his legs. Harper carried one on his hip that to attract his attention kept dragging on his father's T-shirt, crying "Daddy."  
  
"Is something missing?" The answer would tell much about the emerging man, thought Harper.  
  
"Passion."  
  
As Tamerlane detached the little girls from his legs, a ten-year old beauty with her father's smile and her mother's red-hair came to his rescue.  
  
"I'm Macha Mong Ruad, out of Trance by Seamus of the Kodiak Pride." She grasped the hands of her sisters, pulling them away from Tamerlane. "Remember my name. One day you will sire my children."  
  
"You were saying something about missing passion?" 


	26. Inexplicable Things

Tamerlane did not hear Harper's teasing question, because he was watching the child/woman march her sisters away. Out of Trance by Harper? Impossible! He did the math. She said she is ten years old. None of the inner circle had seen Trance in ten years.  
  
Shaking his head in bewilderment, he turned to Harper. Tamerlane willed his mouth to stop opening and closing uncontrollably.  
  
"That's my little test tube baby." Harper slapped his nephew on the back. "So I'm going to have two Anasazi sons-in-law. How lucky can a Harper get?"  
  
Harper's glee disconcerted the Reincarnation. His world continued to crumble about him as each day he was made privy to another family secret.  
  
"I'll walk you home. I have business with your father." Harper began to walk away. "Come on. I'll explain everything as we walk."  
  
  
  
"I have confirmed her story. Her sisters left their home two days ago. The ship never arrived. They weren't reported missing, because their parents thought that confirming their arrival had slipped their minds. The excitement of young females on the hunt for males, was the way their mother put it."  
  
Beka filled in the rest, "And Goneril told no one."  
  
Tyr tore a section from the orange that he was consuming and presented it to Beka. "Your prize, my Lady."  
  
Beka's stomach roiled, so she pushed Tyr's hand away. "I'm sorry. I don't think I'm going to be eating oranges for the next nine months." She caught a gag in the palm of her hand.  
  
Tyr through the offending fruit into a wastebasket across the room then wiped his hands on a napkin, before rushing to her side to comfort her. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."  
  
"Neither did I," she grinned weakly. "Morning sickness won't be far behind, I guess."  
  
"Sentry." Tyr bellowed.  
  
"Yes, my Lord." A guard stepped through the doorway and came to attention.  
  
"No more oranges in the palace until further notice." Tyr barked.  
  
The guard saluted, "Yes, my Lord." He stepped back into the hall, closing the door behind him.  
  
Beka snickered as she heard the muffled orders passed down the chain of command. "You over reacted, don't you think?"  
  
"Perhaps," Tyr pulled her into his embrace, "Then again, perhaps not. My whim should underscore your importance to The Kodiak. Which, in turn, should strengthen your authority in the community."  
  
"Some girls get flowers. I get authority." Beka drew his head to plant a quick kiss on his lips. "That's my Tyr, turn a tender moment into a power struggle."  
  
"Smooching again." Harper strode through the door, followed closely by Tamerlane. "I have thirty-one wives and I don't get as much kissing action as you Tyr, who has one."  
  
"You won't believe what my test tube baby said to Tamerlane today." Harper gestured to the boy to continue the story.  
  
"Remember my name. One day you will sire my children."  
  
Tyr released Beka, who stepped to her son's side. "Were those her exact words?"  
  
Tamerlane responded to the concern in her voice with doubt, "I think so."  
  
"You got it right, kid." Harper flopped into a chair. "Isn't that great? Two of your sons will father my grandchildren."  
  
"Harper, think." The Kodiak delivered his command in an icy blast.  
  
"Dad, what's going on?" Tamerlane felt as if he had done something wrong, but didn't know what it was.  
  
"Sit all of you." Beka snapped. "Macha may have unwittingly revealed the identity of the traitor." 


	27. Final Thing

"What was it that Dylan said to you?" Beka scrunched her face in concentration.  
  
"About what?" exploded in pique from the lips of the three men.  
  
"Excuse me." Beka realized that she had made a leap in logic that had left the men struggling in a quagmire of uncertainty.  
  
The Lady Kodiak surveyed the men who had obediently taken seats at her bidding. Tyr, she would start the explanation with Tyr. She caught his eye, then sauntered over to him, never breaking eye contact. Now he was completely confused. She couldn't possibly want to seduce him in front of his son and friend? Beka pursed her lips and threw him a kiss, then sat in his lap.  
  
"Think back to your conversation with Dylan. What did he say we had to do to figure out who the traitor was?" She slid an arm around his neck.  
  
"He said that we had to figure out who appeared most oblivious to the current climate." Tyr buried his face in her neck and growled. Now, he understood the connection.  
  
"Would somebody let us in on the less than obvious?" Harper whined.  
  
Tyr raised his head long enough to order Harper to explain to Tamerlane how stars were born.  
  
"Father, every child in nursery school knows how stars are born." Then he snapped. "What has that to do with our traitor?"  
  
Harper jumped up excitedly. "I get it now. You are wrong." He pointed his finger at The Kodiak and his lady.  
  
"Harper," Tyr thundered.  
  
"All right, OK," he settled back in his chair and turned his attention to Tamerlane. "I think your mum and dad are wrong. But he is bigger than me, heck, they are both bigger than me, so I will humour them."  
  
Tamerlane hung his head. They had gone mad. The people he most trusted in the universe were certifiably insane.  
  
Harper cleared his throat and asked, "What is the most common type of star in the universe?"  
  
"Every child knows that they are the red dwarves." Tamerlane said contemptuously, reminding Beka and Harper of his father, although Tyr missed the similarity.  
  
"Yes, boy, you are right," said his father. "They are small and red and they live a very long time."  
  
Beka continued the lesson, "We know that interstellar dust plays an important part in the birth of stars."  
  
"That's the scientific explanation anyway." Said Harper with a sigh.  
  
"And you three have another explanation? Something you can prove, but haven't bothered to?" Tamerlane was certain they had gone mad. "Harper, why would you keep a new theory a secret? That isn't like you to hide your genius from the world."  
  
Harper noted the mocking tone with a grimace, then answered Tamerlane's question with one of his own, "Do you know the translation of Mong Ruad?"  
  
"From stars to your daughter - won't anyone give me a straight answer." Tamerlane rolled his eyes.  
  
"Answer the question, son." Tyr prompted softly, not wanting to exasperate the boy any more than he already was.  
  
"I know that Macha was the name of a queen of Ireland, but I don't know what Mong Ruad means," the boy conceded.  
  
"Red-haired," explained his stepmother.  
  
"Red dwarves? Red hair? Interstellar dust?" Tamerlane jumped out of the chair and began to pace around the room. "What has any of this to do with Goneril and the traitor, or Admiral Hunt for that matter?"  
  
"One day you will sire my children," Harper whispered, "She didn't say father and she didn't say you would be her mate."  
  
"That was childish imagination." Tamerlane paused in his pacing. "I didn't take it seriously."  
  
"But you should son." Tyr surprised them all with his admission.  
  
Beka called to Tamerlane, "Come sit at our feet. I shouldn't have left the explanation to these two. I will make sense of all of this, I promise."  
  
Tamerlane put his trust in Beka and sat at the feet of his parents. Harper settled back in his chair, as if he expected to be there a long time. Tyr closed his eyes and rested his forehead against Beka's back for a moment.  
  
"We have told you the stories of Trance Gemini's second sight. How she returned from the future to reshape the universe."  
  
Tamerlane nodded.  
  
"Ten years ago, we learned that she had defied her people, not once, but twice. The first time was in her purple princess stage. You have seen the holograms, when she had the tail?"  
  
All the men nodded.  
  
"Her second transgression was her return from the future. She saved the universe, but lost her freedom as a result."  
  
Harper took up the story; "I had asked her to marry me, about ten and a half years ago. She turned me down. With regret, I add. But she did ask me to father her child. We couldn't reproduce - incompatible biology. But she was a medical whiz and I was a boy genius."  
  
"And there were a lot of empty test tubes on board Andromeda." Tyr rumbled.  
  
"Once we had the baby started, we needed a surrogate. That's when Anna's ambition met Trance's need and I acquired a wife."  
  
"Anna was the surrogate." Tamerlane interrupted. "And that is the reason that Macha says out of Trance."  
  
"Well she is only ten, and Nietzschean tradition doesn't have a way of explaining that she emerged from Anna, but has no biological connection to her."  
  
Tyr interjected, "Our people manipulate genes, but turn their noses up at surrogacy. One of our many contradictions."  
  
"The sort that the Nietzschean Messiah may face?" "I'm afraid so, son."  
  
"Is Macha incapable of natural childbirth?" asked Tamerlane. "Is that why she used sire?"  
  
"We won't know for a few years, but I thought it best to prepare for the worst, since she lives in a baby factory." Harper sighed.  
  
"What has this to do with Red Dwarf stars?" Tamerlane was like a terrier on a rat. He would not let go.  
  
"Trance had a trick that she used - infrequently - but that I witnessed once." Beka took up the tale. "She would blow what looked like a dust cloud out of her mouth."  
  
"A very special cloud, able to undo manacles and other good things that saved our lives." Harper jumped in again.  
  
"Don't tell me!" Tamerlane's jaw dropped. "Interstellar dust."  
  
Tyr nodded, "Trance's people begin as interstellar dust, then transform into red dwarf stars. For trillions of years they witness the foolishness of all the other species in the universe."  
  
Beka softened his words, "They watch benignly, until a maverick like Trance comes along."  
  
Seamus Harper finished the story, "Trance must return to her stariness very shortly. We knew it was going to happen eventually. What we didn't consider is that her original agenda, to set the universe right, still occupied her. Knowing that she had run out of time, she forced our hand. She is behind everything, the traitor, Goneril, the kidnapping, the rumour of a pretender - everything."  
  
Tyr and Beka stood in unison. Tyr spoke - his hand on Beka's shoulder, "She was never wrong Tamerlane, out of Freya, by Tyr, the Reincarnation. We can no longer put off the inevitable. I'm sorry, son, but we must disclose your true identity tomorrow."  
  
The end. 


End file.
